An Unloved Man
by obsessive-fanfic-reader
Summary: Neal has been held captive for 3 years & is finally discovered by Agent Peter Burke. Neal forms an odd relationship with Peter & in turn Peter feels he needs to take care of the man who's scared of his own shadow. Peter/Neal eventual SLASH! Slight OOC AU
1. Mistreated

Okay, so it's been a long time since I've posted anything. This has been floating around my brain for a while. Let me know if it's any good. And this is my first time I've written for this fandom.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own White Collar or any of its characters

**Warnings: **Somewhat graphic het sex and abuse

* * *

><p>A naked, blue eyed man was tucked into the corner, tears streaking his sharp cheekbones. His eyes were trained on the small beam of light that passed beneath the door. He never went by the door, considering if one of his captors opened the door, it would smack him. He never tried to get out since the door was locked from the outside and the light switch was outside, too. For the first couple of weeks, he had beat on the door and screamed until his voice went hoarse. All he received was Miss Sara's hand to the face and a gag in his mouth.<p>

A sharp whimper came from his throat as he shifted slightly to get blood back into his limbs. Miss Alex had bruised him badly across the chest and wrists and welts were raised along his thighs, chest and back.

This sight was nothing new to him or his captors. Miss Alex was rough and liked to hurt him and leave marks on his body. Miss Kate was gentler than Miss Alex but would punish him if he didn't behave. Miss Sara was cruel and often left him bloody. There was nothing that he could do that would please her. At least he hadn't figured her out in the three years he had been here.

The light in his room flashed on, blinding the man for a second. When he could see, the dingy, concrete walls and floor greeted him in an unwelcoming way. His filthy, stained mattress sat on a rickety frame on the opposite side of the room from him. A small cupboard with three blankets was next to the bed. The room was tiny, his bed took up most of it.

The door opened and Kate walked in. She was dressed in a black mini skirt, he could see the outline of the pair of lacy panties and a black corset vest. Her raven hair fell down past her shoulders. "Nick," she called gently.

He unfurled himself and made his way to the raven and knelt at her feet. All he wanted was a soft touch from her. The pain he was feeling was close to unbearable.

"Hm. Alex roughed you up a bit, didn't she?" She noted as she stooped to his level. "What did she want?"

"S-she wanted my pass-code to my bank accounts." Nick hung his head. He hadn't wanted to but she hurt him and kept threatening to castrate him.

"She's so mean to you." She smiled at him. "My sweet angel," Kate cooed as she cupped the side of his face.

Nick's eyes widened at her pet name. She wanted sex from him. "Miss Kate, no. I-I hurt everywhere…please no."

She slapped him hard across the face, making him fall back onto his elbows. "Do not beg me not to do something. I will do what I want." A small smile played on her lips as she watched the tears fall from his eyes.

The man stayed on the floor, his vision blurred slightly. He knew he wasn't supposed to talk back to her, Miss Alex, or Miss Sara. He was in for some pain. "I-I am sorry, Miss Kate."

"You bet your ass. Get the blanket and lay it on the bed." She crossed her arms and waited impatiently for him to do as he was told.

Nick quickly grabbed the brilliant blue blanket from the cabinet and spread it over his soiled mattress. He knelt on the floor in front of Kate after she sat down on the blanket, her panties visible.

"Good boy, Nick. Now take my panties off." She knew this command upset Nick since it was her cue for him to lick her pussy. He didn't enjoy that too much but he was good at it.

With his eyes downcast, Nick gingerly removed her underwear. He moved slightly closer, his shoulders were now touching her knees.

"Nick, quit stalling. You know what you are supposed to do. Go on," she prodded as she moved to the edge of the bed. When he didn't move, Kate grabbed the hair on the back of his head and yanked him forward. "Don't make me ask again," she growled with a sharp tug of his hair.

Now with his lips less than an inch from her crotch, he swallowed thickly before placing a chaste kiss there. Nick hated when she asked him for this. He opened his mouth and with the flat of his tongue licked her open and delved deep. He could taste her and another man's cum creeping onto his tongue. He had to resist the urge to jerk back.

Nick pulled back to lavish her clitoris and suck on it. Her breathy moans hit his ears and made him smile. He was doing good. The man went back inside her and thrust his tongue in. He continued until she yanked his head away.

"Good job, Nick. Now I'm nice and wet so I can ride you." She licked his wet chin and lips before she shoved him back and straddled his hips. "Nick, are you limp?" she questioned in his ear as she pressed against him.

"Yes, Miss Kate," he said truthfully. There was no reason to lie to her, she would just punish him if he did. "I'm sorry, Miss Kate." She was going to be furious.

Kate stood up and sat back on the bed. "Fix it then." She placed her finger on her chin in faux thought. "Touch yourself."

Nick started at the command. That was embarrassing and humiliating. Slowly the brunette wrapped his hand around his cock and stroked slowly. Tears slowly leaked from the corners of his eyes. Playing with himself was bad, according to Kate. Only filthy, naughty men did that.

The raven happily soaked up the sight of the tears falling from the man's eyes. He looked so beautiful with tears on his face. As soon as he slowed his hand, Kate stalked over to Nick and touched his glistening face. "Good boy, Nick."

He didn't want this to happen, he didn't want to cry in front of Kate. The brunette wanted nothing more than to hide in the corner from her. She may come off sweet and loving but he knew all she wanted was tears and sex from him. And if he refused, she would do anything to get what she wanted.

Kate straddled his waist and wasting no time with lubrication, since she was already wet, she worked his cock into her. Slowly, she rode him. Kate elicited more tears as she pinned his wrists to the floor and pressed against the bruises, making the man's back arch beautifully. Her clothes rubbed harshly against the red welts on Nick's thighs.

The pain was now unbearable and a small whimper escaped his clamped lips. But the slick, hot wetness of being inside of Kate made up for all the pain. Nick squirmed slightly to get the small rock out from underneath his back.

Most of the time, Kate never made the sex pleasurable for Nick, knowing that she would just be favoring him over the others but tonight was different. Something big was going to happen soon, she felt it. Kate wanted tonight to be remembered by both of them. The raven clenched tightly around Nick's cock, making him moan and thrust quickly into her.

She released one of his hands to scratch down Nick's chest to his bellybutton. The scream that came from his throat elicited a sly smile from Kate. Her nail marks were perpendicular to his welts and a bit of blood bubbled up. "You have such a nice voice, Nick. Let it out."

Nick shook his head. His body hurt and he wanted her to just leave him. Why was she being so gentle and giving? It was foreign and terrifying. The brunette cried, knowing that he couldn't get away from her, no matter what he did.

Kate started to make breathy moans and began to touch herself. She clenched around him again as she got closer to her orgasm. Tonight, she would let Nick have his own.

His need for physical contact propelled him to sit up and rest his forehead on her shoulder with his arms behind him. Nick wanted her to hold him and kiss his bruises better. But that wouldn't happen. She wasn't even touching him now. Kate was all about her own self gratification.

Suddenly Kate's fingers grazed over the back of Nick's neck as she cradled his head. "You are my favorite, Nick. Remember that," she whispered breathily into his ear. She convulsed around his cock as she reached her climax.

"Please?" he murmured, his cock still hard. His body was shaking from unadulterated need and he could hardly hold himself up. He looked up at her cautiously to judge her expression. "I won't ask ever again. Just this once."

She smiled sweetly. "Go ahead, Nick. You've been such a good boy." Gently, she kissed his cheek. Kate slipped off of the man and quickly jerked him off.

Nick threw his head back as his long moan filled the room. It was rare for him to be allowed to orgasm and so he gladly immersed himself in the bliss. He felt the build up and let it go immediately. He came in thick spurts onto his stomach and thighs. His cheeks burned red as he stared down at his mess.

He pulled into himself as Kate stood up. Nick followed her hand as she snatched up her underwear and use it to wipe up some of his mess. Then she tilted his face up to hers.

She placed a gentle kiss on his lips and walked to the door. "I love you," she said before she slipped through the door and closed it. The light turned off, leaving Nick in the dark once more.

Those three words that he wanted to hear so badly only hurt him more deeply than any physical wound he had ever received. Those words were a lie, Kate didn't mean them and that's what hurt the most.

Tears fell numbly down his face and onto his chest; he didn't bother to wipe them away. Several minutes later, Nick ripped the blanket from the bed, folded it neatly and shoved it back into the corner. Then clambered onto his bed. He shifted until he found a comfortable position and closed his eyes. His sleep was light when it came to him.

xxWCxx

When Miss Sara came in to do her night time check, Nick felt her straighten his body out before he heard her sharp intake of breath. She saw the dried cum on his stomach.

He was fully woken when she grabbed a fistful of his hair and yanked him off his bed. He howled in pain and tried to alleviate some by sitting up but she just pulled harder.

"You little bastard," she hissed. The redhead never called him by his name, saying that he didn't deserve one. "I know what Kate said to you earlier and what she did with you. And I came to put you in your place. You are not special in any way."

Nick nodded quickly. "Yes, Miss Sara. I-I am not special." Miss Kate must have said something to Miss Sara about their time together tonight. He didn't think he was special or favored over anyone else. As far as he knew, he was visited as much as any other captive.

"And Kate does not love you. No one loves you. You are a body to fucked and toyed with. You cannot be loved, you whore." She finally let go of Nick's hair to grasp his chin. "What are you?" she demanded.

The man met her eyes briefly before answering, "I am an unlovable whore, Miss Sara."

She did not praise him on his intelligent answer and instead just let him go. Before she left, Sara kicked over his water bowl and smiled with mirth as the small amount of water pooled on the floor. Then she slammed the door behind her.

Nick stayed on the floor for several more minutes, still too afraid to move. When he finally did, he curled tightly into a ball on his mattress. He did not cry even though his head was killing him and Sara's words had hurt too. He stared blankly at the dirty wall in front of him. No matter what he did or didn't do got him in trouble. Damned if he did, damned if he didn't. Nick closed his eyes once more and ignored the stinging behind his eyelids as he tried to sleep.

xxWCxx

A gentle dip in the mattress startled Nick and he shrank up against the wall. Alex sat at the foot of his bed, her face marred by a frown. "There's no need to be so jumpy. I'm not going to hurt you."

She moved to sit cross-legged. "I know that Sara has been in here and talked to you. But I feel I need to say something to you." She fiddled with her hands. Alex had never been very good with words when she wasn't yelling them.

"Kate has been too lenient with you. Sara and I have to straighten you out." She started forward, making Nick press harder against the wall.

Nick was trembling as he watched Alex. She was rough with him and hurt him when he didn't do anything wrong.

"You know that no one will love you. Not even Kate. She says it but she doesn't mean it. You're a little slut and no one wants a slut." She grabbed his ankle and yanked him towards her. "And no one is safe. Everyone is out to hurt you. Everyone will try to use you and abuse you."

Nick nodded frantically, anything to get her to leave. He was used and abused daily so this wasn't news to him. And he knew he was a slut. But he didn't understand that everyone was going to hurt him. Miss Kate, Sara, and Alex already hurt him.

"We are lending you out in a couple of days." She released his ankle and stood up. "We need you on your best behavior."

The man's eyes pricked with tears. He hated being lent out. The clients were never gentle and almost always made him scream.

"Night, Nick. See you in the morning," she said easily and walked out of the room with a large smile.

The man tugged his legs up to himself and hugged them. His mind won't stop reeling so he doesn't fall asleep. When he does manage to sleep, a strange man barged into his room, startling him into falling on the floor.

xxWCxx

A brunette man sat at his desk, looking over a particularly boring case file. Peter had read the same line at least ten times before Diana knocked on his open door. He looked up at her and saw excitement in her face.

"Hey, boss. Do you remember the Caffrey mortgage fraud case?" She was fiddling with a piece of paper in her hands.

"I do. Didn't Caffrey go missing right after he filed his case?" When she nodded, he asked, "What about the case? Did you find Caffrey?"

She shook her head. "You know how we have his accounts under watch? He just withdrew $20,000. The only thing is that it's not a 'he' but a she that did it." She placed a security video picture on his desk. "That's Sara Ellis. Traffic cams followed her to a warehouse on 57th. Caffrey's warehouse."

"Why did she go there? Does she think we're coming after her?" Peter stared at the photo while he tried to figure it out.

"I'm thinking she's hiding something there. We have a warrant for her arrest and to search the warehouse. We're leaving in 10 minutes so you can stop pretending to read that case file." She smiled and left his office.

Peter was one of the first agents to arrive at the warehouse. He got out of the car and immediately broke down the door to the warehouse. Diana and Jones caught up right behind him and the three of them made their way through the apparently empty building.

There were several rows wooden doors. Peter began opening the doors, the first several were empty. He opened the next door and found a young girl cowering in the corner. "We need ambulances!" he yelled and moved onto another room.

They found 20 prostitutes and there were still two rows of rooms left. In the last room, Peter pushed the door open and saw a man huddled against the bed. He must've heard the noise and was afraid.

Jones and Diana came up behind him and the man cowered further. "Go look for some evidence to tie Ellis to this," Peter ordered. "I've got this."

They nodded sharply and left. Most of the prostitutes had run straight to the agents but this one wasn't moving. He had obviously been here longer than the rest.

"It's okay. You're safe now. They can't hurt you anymore," Peter tried to console as he walked closer but the man screamed. "It's alright," he soothed as he crouched down. "My name is Peter. What's your name?"

The question caught the man off guard. He looked stunned before mumbling his name. Peter had a look about him that made the cowering man feel safe.

Peter barely heard it but he caught it. "Okay, Nick." Slowly he extended his hand. "Will you come with me?"

The smaller male sat up straighter. Hadn't Miss Alex said that they were lending him out in a couple days? Had they decided to lie to him and decided not to tell him out of spite? "Miss Sara said it was okay?"

It took the agent a second to realize what Nick was talking about, then he nodded. "Yes, she did. Come on." He emphasized by wiggling his fingers. When Nick stood up, Peter realized that the man was naked and filthy. Then he spotted the blankets folded in the cabinet. He grabbed the top one and went to wrap it around the man but he jerked away.

"No! That's Miss Kate's blanket! Put it back!" Nick ripped the blanket from Peter's fingers and placed it back.

Peter was stunned. "Can I get a blanket in here?" he yelled out the door. He kept Nick close to him, to shield him as another agent brought him the blanket. "And take those blankets for evidence." He carefully wrapped Nick up and began to lead him out. The man was begging them to leave the blankets but Peter kept a strong arm around him.

An EMT came up to the two. "I've got him from here. Thank you, Agent Burke." Nick stayed glued to the agent's side until Peter nudged him forward.

Nick shook his head and pulled the blanket closer to himself. "I-I don't want to go." The man stared down at the floor, waiting for the agent's response.

Peter understood that the man was terrified to leave what he was used to and comfortable with. "It's alright, Nick. They will take care of you and make you feel better. You are safe with them." He placed a comforting hand on the man's shoulder.

Nick jerked away and whimpered. Scared out of his mind, the man began to grip his hair and tugged harshly, the blanket falling from his shoulders. He didn't know why this man was taking him away and with all people walking around him, screams began to build in his throat.

The agent knew an anxiety attack when he saw one. "Nick, calm down. No one is going to hurt you." The EMT took a step closer to the distressed man, making Nick finally scream and bolt back into his room. Peter shot a look at the EMT. "Do not do that again. I need to get him to the hospital without any further injury." He snatched the blanket from the floor.

Peter ran back to the room and found Nick under the bed. He crouched onto the floor and peered at the man. "Come on out."

The boy shook his head and pulled into himself. There was a loud grumbling noise, it took a second for the agent to figure out what had caused it. Nick was hungry.

"I'll give you some food if you come out," the older man coaxed. Slowly he extended his hand under the bed and Nick just stared at it.

No one had offered him something before. He was usually denied things and not given them. "Food?"

"Yes, food. As much as you want." That seemed to get a small response from Nick. He wiggled closer to Peter. "Come on, buddy. Just a little more and we can get you out of here. You won't have to see Miss Sara ever again."

The man was going to take him away from Miss Sara! He wouldn't have to endure her punishments anymore. He would be free of her forever. Nick placed his hand in the agent's and made his way out from under the bed.

Peter smirked as he held onto the man's hand. "I'm going to let the EMT do his job now, okay? You'll be safe with him and at the hospital." The older man placed the blanket around him again before leading them to the ambulance. "Be careful with him. He's frightened. Try not to touch him a lot." Peter released the man's hand before saying, "Remember, you're safe with them. They will help you get better, Nick."

The older man had said they were safe. No one was safe, Kate and Sara had ingrained that. But he did not want to upset Peter by stalling any longer. Reluctantly, Nick shuffled closer to the EMTs. The blue eyed man looked at Peter, pleading him silently not to leave him with them but the agent just smiled and told him he was safe now. Begrudgingly, Nick let himself be placed in the back of the ambulance. It was then that he realized that Peter hadn't given him any food.

Diana finally found her boss. "We haven't located Ellis. She must have snuck out the back. We've set up a perimeter and have an APB out on her. All we can do is wait for her to surface. So Hughes wants us back at the office," Diana said as she walked up to him.

"Alright then. Let's go." Peter shot a look at the ambulance as it began to take off down the street. He had a feeling that he was going to be seeing that man again.

* * *

><p>Please review!<p> 


	2. Misnamed

Okay so here's the second chapter.

I'm only going to say this once: The characters in this story, especially Neal, will be Out Of Character (OOC). If you don't like, don't read.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own White Collar or any of its characters

**Warnings: **None

* * *

><p>As soon as Peter got to the office, his phone rang. He didn't recognize the number but answered it anyway. "Agent Burke."<p>

"Agent Burke, this is Lidia from New York General. We need you to come down. We have a patient who is screaming for you. We can't help him with him flailing around. And we don't want to hurt him. He's been traumatized enough."

Peter knew exactly who it was. "I'll be there in 15 minutes." The agent let Hughes know he was going to the hospital. "He's a valuable witness," he provided when the older man gave him a curious look. Hughes let him go with a wave.

When he entered the hospital and before he could flash his badge, a brunette nurse raced up to him. "You're Agent Burke." It wasn't a question. "We need you in room 233." She turned on her heel and began to walk away. He quickly followed.

Loud, terrified screams of his name hit Peter's ears. The agent in him made him want to protect the tortured man. The nurse pushed the door opened and Peter tried not to cringe as the screams hit him full blast.

Looking into the room, he could understand why the man was screaming. A doctor and two nurses surrounded Nick, holding him down as another nurse tried to start an IV. "Back away from him. All you're doing is scaring him."

The nurses did as they were told but the doctor continued to look over Nick. Peter walked closer to the shivering, crying form on the bed. Nick had curled onto his side and was clutching the sheets. "I want to talk to your supervisors when I'm done here." A blonde nurse nodded and looked sheepishly at the floor. "Give me a few minutes with him…alone," he growled at the nurses that were crowded in one corner of the room. They all filed out and waited in the hallway.

"Nick, you're okay now. Everyone's gone," Peter tried to console but the man was in his own world. Trying to be comforting, the agent placed his hand on top of Nick's and gently rubbed the back of it. He noticed there were fresh bruises forming on top the old ones.

The touch was foreign, making the man yank his hand back. He whimpered when Peter moved away slightly. He may have not wanted to be touched but he wanted the man to stay.

Peter could take a hint and went to sit on the chair next to the bed. He was at a complete loss as to what to do to help the man relax. He didn't even know the man. The agent pulled out his phone and called his roommate. He needed advice on how to proceed.

"Hey, Peter. Is everything okay? You never call me while you're at work," Elizabeth said over the phone.

"I know. But I'm stuck in a rut." Peter took a look at the man across from him. Nick seemed to be lost to the world, but he wasn't crying as much as before. "We made a bust on a prostitution house. I'm with one of them now. He doesn't like to be touched and seems scared of everything. So how the hell am I supposed to calm him down?"

"He?" Elizabeth thought for sure it was a woman. "Just talk to him. Ask him questions like what his name is, what year it is. Simple recall calms the mind."

"Alright, I'll try that. Thanks, El." Peter hung up the phone and caught blue eyes staring at him. "Nick, can you tell me what year it is?"

Nick shook his head. "I-I think it's 2010. M-miss Kate celebrates my birthday with extra food." The man's eyes shifted to the door and he shrunk back into the bed. "They keep looking at me."

Peter stood up and glared through the glass in the door before holding up two fingers. Sitting back down, the agent asked, "Can you tell me how old you are?"

Nick thought about it for a second before stating that he was 24. He shifted slightly to sit up and get a better look at the agent.

"How long did Sara have you in that room?" He knew that the question could backfire and make the man clam up.

Instead it caused Nick to furrow his brow and stare down at the bed. "Miss Sara said that I had been around for three years. I-I can't remember." His fingers began to play with the blanket.

"That's all right." Peter thought that the younger man was calm enough to have the nurses come back in. "Nick, I'm going to let the nurses in. I need you to relax so they can help you get better. Nothing bad is going to happen. I'll be here the entire time." The agent walked up to the door and invited the nurses back in. Nick's whimper hit his ears and he did his best to ignore it. The man needed to get better.

"Do not be rough with him," Peter barked at the group of nurses. "You can come back in now." The agent shot a look at Nick and saw unadulterated fear. "Nick, it's okay," he comforted as he went back to the bed. Gently, he grabbed Nick's hand as a nurse came to start the IV. "Don't move, Nick," Peter warned as the man started to wiggle away.

When the IV was finally taped in place, Nick pulled away and up against Peter. "No more," he pleaded. He looked up at the agent in hopes of him making it stop.

"Agent Burke, we're going to give him a sedative so we can check him over and find out how to treat him correctly," another nurse informed him, her name badge said Kyla.

Peter nodded. "That would probably be best. Sorry, Nick." The agent carefully maneuvered Nick back onto the bed. The man clenched his hand around Peter's fingers as the sedative was injected into his IV. "You're going to be fine," he said as tears welled up in Nick's eyes.

"I'll behave, I swear!" Nick pleaded as he gripped the agent's hand in both of his. "Peter, I swear." The sedative in his veins finally made its way to his brain and his eyes began to droop. "Stay," he mumbled before he was dragged under.

"Agent," Kyla called, "there isn't any reason for you to stay in here while we check him over. When we're finished, I'll come get you."

"Give me your supervisors' names first." Pulling out his notepad, Peter took down the names. "Order him some food, too. I promised him food." The agent patted Nick's hand before he exited the room.

After taking to the supervisors, Peter's phone rang. "Agent Burke," he barked into the phone.

"Boss," Diana greeted, "we're asking the hospital staff to take pictures of the victims and fax them to us so we can put them through the facial recognition program. I know you're at the hospital and with one of a couple male victims. Take his picture for me so we can find out who he is."

"He says his name is Nick. He's 24 and has been held captive for three years." Peter shot a look into the man's room. He was asleep and a flimsy hospital gown finally covered his body as nurses flitted around him.

"I see. I'll make sure to put that in the criteria. I'll keep you in the loop, boss," Diana said before she hung up the phone.

Pocketing his phone, Peter edged his way into the room. "How is he?" he questioned.

"He's suffering from malnutrition, dehydration, and several severe contusions. He's got an infection in his scratches on his chest and thighs." The doctor tugged the blanket up on Nick as he shivered in his sleep. "I'll know more when I can do a proper physical exam." The man grabbed a thermometer and ran it along Nick's forehead to his ear and then under his jaw. "He has a fever also."

"That's from the infection, right?" He received a nod. "Is he going to have to have a psychological exam when he wakes up?"

"No, but I've already called our psychologist and he'll be here tomorrow morning. Did you want him to see someone else?"

Peter shook his head. "When's he going to be awake? I have some questions to ask him."

"At least another hour. We're hoping that if he has a little bit of rest, he won't be so upset. And when he does wake up, don't upset him or I'll have to remove you from the room." He smiled. "My name is Dr. Kaplan by the way."

Peter gave the man his name and then the doctor left. He remembered suddenly that Diana wanted pictures of the victims so he took his phone out and stood next to Nick's bed. He snapped the photo and sent it to Diana. Hopefully she could get a hit, even with Nick's eyes closed.

Not even five minutes later, Diana called him. "You won't believe who you're with right now," she said.

Peter scoffed quietly. "Who?" When she told him, his eyes went wide. "Neal Caffrey? I'm sitting next to Neal Caffrey? Are you sure?"

"Ran it four times, boss. Every single time it matched him to Caffrey. It's a 99.67% match." There was a noise of a keyboard being used. Then she made a confused noise. "He said his name was Nick, right? Do you think he was lying to you?"

"No, I think he firmly believes his name is Nick." Peter watched Nick's – Neal's – even breathing. "They must have changed it to degrade him."

The keyboard taps stopped abruptly and the phone was readjusted. "Boss?" Diana sounded lost.

"They stripped him of everything; his house, his money, his clothes and even his name. They took everything that was his." The agent couldn't take his eyes off the young man.

Neal rolled towards him, his arm hanging off the bed. A picture of innocence…and abuse. The bruises prominent and light scars horrifying.

"Who's they? Is Ellis working with someone else?" Diana was shuffling papers in a rush, anything to find someone connected to Ellis and Caffrey.

"I think there's two of them." Peter thought back to the room where he found Neal. "There's Ellis and a woman named Kate. I think they both kidnapped Caffrey and used the whore house as a cover."

"I'll look into it, boss. Are you staying at the hospital with Caffrey?" The paper shuffling resumed.

"Yeah until I figure out what's going to happen with him." A doctor strode in, his nose buried in the chart in his hand. "I have to go. Call me if you find anything." Peter snapped his phone shut and watched the doctor move Neal onto his back.

"I just need to get his statement and then I'll be out of here." Peter felt that Kaplan wasn't too interested in what the agent needed to do but the doctor surprised him with his response.

"Alright. I'll wake him up for you." He injected a small amount of a drug into the man's IV. "He'll be awake a couple of minutes. This will also help with finding out if he has any pain."

Peter nodded. He kept a sharp eye to find any discomfort on the man's face. A high pitched whine hit his ears as Neal shifted and his eyes fluttered opened. "Hey," he greeted quietly as he stood next to the bed.

Neal jerked violently before peeking between his long lashes. "Peter?" He reached up slowly just to check to see if he was real but pulled back just before his fingers touched Peter's face. "Hurts."

"What hurts, Nick?" the doctor asked, cutting the man off, and edging into Neal's line of sight.

He started, his eyes wide. "Everything." Neal reached for the agent, his fingers trembling. "Peter?"

"What is it?" Peter saw the fear in Neal's eyes. When the man just hid his face into Peter's arm, he hesitantly placed his hand into Neal's hair. "You're okay. I told you that you're safe here."

Neal nodded but didn't move away. "I'm cold. I can't get warm," he mumbled into Peter's sleeve. He pulled his knees to his chest, trying to conserve his heat.

The doctor went to a closet, grabbed another blanket and covered Neal with it. "Nick, I'm sorry but I need to take a look at the infection in the scrapes on your thighs. And I think your F.B.I. agent would like to take pictures for evidence."

Peter handed Dr. Kaplan his phone. "Take them for me, will you? I need to keep him calm so you can do your job." Neal hadn't moved and only tightened his grip on the agent's arm. "Let him look, Nick."

Slowly Neal's legs extended. His thighs felt achy, hot and tight. When the blankets were removed, he whined. He couldn't stay warm this way.

"Hey, look at me," Peter said. Neal didn't move. He crouched down so he was eye level with Neal. He needed to take the man's mind off of what the doctor was doing. "I need to tell you something important. Your name is not Nick, it's Neal."

Neal furrowed his brow. "That was my name before I became Miss Sara's, Miss Kate's and Miss Alex's. It was from my old life." He jerked his body away from the doctor's fingers when he swiped an antibiotic wash over his welts.

The doctor apologized quickly as he replaced the blankets. He grabbed the chart and scribbled something on it.

Peter looked back at Neal, who's eyes were closed. "Why did you tell me that your name was Nick?"

The man's blue eyes found him. "Miss Sara said I was never to say my real name. If I did, she would punish me."

"Excuse me, I'm giving you some pain medication. But before I do that, I want to know if you have pain anywhere else other than your thighs." The doctor looked a little peeved.

"No. I'm okay. I can handle it." Neal pulled into himself. "Can I sleep now? I'm so tired." His fingers idly played with Peter's suit sleeve.

The agent shot a look at the doctor. The man nodded. "Go ahead." Peter tried to wiggle his arm out from Neal's grasp but the man whimpered.

"A-are you going to be here when I wake up?" Neal's eyes were wet. He realized his hold on the agent and let go.

Peter sighed and patted Neal's hand. "Yes, I'll be here. I still need to get your side of the story." When the man nodded and his eyes closed, the agent pulled his chair closer to the bed. He was prepared to stay for a while.

xxWCxx

While Neal was asleep, Diana called to let Peter know she had found a Kate Moreau. She happened to be Neal's girlfriend. She had been frantically looking for her boyfriend for the first several months he had been missing. But after a year, it seemed she had given up on him coming home.

"That's because she knew where he was. She didn't have to look for him. It was all a show," Peter said in a hushed tone. "I have a new suspect for you. Her name is Alex. She kept Neal captive with Sara and Kate."

"I'll look into it for you." There was pencil scratching on paper. "How's Neal doing?"

"He's fine. I found out why he didn't tell me his real name. He just said that he would get punished if he told anyone." Neal's fingers tightened around the agent's wrist slightly. "I think he'll pull through this, though. He didn't give up in the three years they treated him like shit."

"You sound like you knew him before." She shuffled through some files. "You were the lead agent on his case. But you never solved it."

"No I didn't. I didn't have any leads. He couldn't think of anyone who would steal his warehouse and sell it."

"What did he use the warehouse for? I've never seen a layout like that before." Peter could picture her drawing out the floor plan on a pad of paper.

"Storage units. He made them only available to people who had valuable art that they needed to hide or store away. He took excellent care of the art, or so he said."

"So the women sent all the artifacts and art back to their owners and converted the units into a whorehouse."

"Exactly." Peter started as the young turned suddenly onto his back. The agent relaxed when Neal remained in the position. "He found out about the sale of his warehouse when a client called, upset, about his paintings being shipped to house and since no one had been there in a month – they were on vacation – the paintings were left out in the rain. That's when he came to us."

"You didn't know how it had happened, did you? You couldn't find out how they sold his warehouse or to who. And then two weeks later, Caffrey disappears."

"Yeah and then reappears three years later, terrified of everything that moves." Neal moved his legs, trying to find a comfortable position. "He doesn't trust the doctors or the nurses. He wants me to stay with him. A nurse told me that he cried for me in his sleep when I was talking to you earlier."

"I'm not surprised." When he asked why, she explained, "You saved him from those women. You're his hero, protector. You make all the frightening people go away."

"Yeah, I suppose. See if you can find an Alex in all of this and tie her to Caffrey or Ellis. We need to find out what happened to Neal."

* * *

><p>Please review! It'll make my fingers work harder! =^.^=<p> 


	3. Mistrust

So...I'm extremely sorry for the long wait. Finals and all that.

**Warnings: **Threesome (f/m/f) not explicit, drug use, and fluffiness between Neal and Peter. And I'm not a psychiatrist so I have no idea what exactly they would ask or how they would deal with Neal but this is my story and this is what I want to happen.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own White Collar...otherwise Neal would be on his knees between Peter's legs...

* * *

><p>The nurses sent Peter home when visitor hours were over. He knew that if he protested, he could stay just because he was a federal agent but he didn't feel like sleeping in a hard chair. There was already a guard posted outside the door so Neal was protected.<p>

"Are you able to keep him sedated until the morning? I would rather him not wake up during the night. And to keep him from having nightmares." The last thing Peter needed was Neal not to trust him because the nurse kicked him out. When the nurse said she would talk to the doctor, Peter just nodded and tugged the blanket up on Neal.

When he got home, El was sitting on the couch with a game show on and a book in her hand. "Hey, Peter," she greeted, "How was work?"

"I've been sitting in a hospital chair for six hours watching Neal Caffrey sleep." He tossed his jacket on the arm of the couch before plopping onto it. "He's…scared. Nurses frighten him and he doesn't trust anyone."

She closed her book. "What did you suspect? He's a prostitute and people don't treat them very nicely, Peter."

"I-It just isn't right, El." Peter looked utterly defeated by the day. "He's so young and has his whole life in front of him but he's terrified of it."

El leaned forward and touched his arm. "He's just not used to it. Give him some time, Peter. He'll bounce back." She removed her hand.

"You sound like you've known him for years," Peter pointed out. "He look's positively broken. I saw him before he went missing. There was a light in his eyes, El. He's not just going to get that back."

El nodded thoughtfully before saying, "Maybe you could help him get it back." The she smirked. "I know how you like to fix things."

"How am I going to help him when he barely even likes to be touched? And you know how awkward I am with comforting people." Peter ran a hand through his hair. "He only touched me because he was scared."

"He reached out to you and that's a huge step." El furrowed her brows for a few seconds as she wrung her hands. "You may want to start with small touches, just to reassure him that you're there for him."

"What if he doesn't let me?" Now Peter was getting anxious about Neal not responding well to him. "What if it just upsets him? You know I don't do tears."

"I know. If it makes him uncomfortable, don't do it again and have the nurses sedate him." She grabbed his hand. "You'll do great. If it gets too out of hand, you have knowledgeable people there with you."

The man nodded. "I just want him to trust me. He needs someone to help him and keep him safe."

"And you know that you're the only one he'll let near him." She smiled at him and squeezed his hand. "You'll make him better, Peter. If anyone can, it's you."

xxWCxx

Neal had been dealing with the nurses for three hours and by the look on the young man's face, Peter could tell he was on edge. "Good morning, Neal," he greeted.

The young man squirmed uncomfortably. "Can I go home now? I-I don't like it here." A nurse touched his wrist and he jerked it away from her.

Peter looked at her then at the man. "She's just trying to help, Neal. Calm down." When Neal refused to look him in the eye, the agent slowly reached for his hand. "She's not going to hurt you. I already told you that."

With a scolded look on his face, Neal offered his arm to Nurse Kyla. He fisted the blanket with his other hand while watching her warily.

She was careful to handle his wrist softly and quickly. "Would it be okay if I wrap this up in some gauze? It'll help with some of the pain." She knew his bruises were painful just by the dark coloring.

He nodded to her before casting a glance at the agent. "I want to go…away," Neal mumbled. He didn't have a place to call home anymore.

"You can leave soon, Mr. Caffrey," Kyla said as she moved to wrap Neal's other wrist. "We just want to make sure that you're good to go." She let his wrist go after she placed a piece of tape on the gauze.

Neal nodded quickly and slowly moved his hands into his lap. "Thank you," he said quietly.

She nodded and asked him if he wanted anything. When all he said was food, Kyla smiled and said she would get him whatever he wanted. She left the room to find him some Jello.

"Neal, before the psychiatrist gets in here, will you tell me what happened with Sara, Kate, and Alex?" Peter asked as he sat in a chair next to the bed. When he received a nod, the agent asked, "How did they get a hold of you?"

Neal continued to stare at his hands. Miss Sara had told him not to tell anyone about what happened to him. He wasn't supposed to tell anyone his real name either. He wasn't quite sure but he supposed that Peter was his new master until Miss Sara came to get him. If the man requested it of him, he would tell him. And he wasn't allowed to lie, Miss Sara said so.

The young man was caught. He supposed that he could tell Peter no since he only had to be with him until he was returned. He had to deal with Miss Sara when he was returned and he was definitely more afraid of her than the man in front him. He opened and closed his mouth several times before he found his voice.

"I can't…Miss Sara would be angry with me." He kept his eyes down. When Peter shifted his feet, Neal threw his arms up to his face to protect it. "I'm sorry!"

Peter immediately moved away from the bed. "Neal, I'm not mad." But the man was still cowering from him. "Neal," he lowers his voice to appear less threatening. "I'm not going to hurt you." Peter made his way to the bed and slowly pried the shaking arms away from the man's scrunched up face.

"Look at me, Neal." Blue eyes peered at him from under long lashes. "I will not hurt you. I will not hit you or slap you. You are safe here and with me. What do I need to do to prove it to you?" Peter could tell with the lack resistance in Neal's body that the man wouldn't ever fight against him.

Neal was constantly told lies by his clients: they were going to get him out of there, they loved him. Nothing made Peter different. Not even the fact that he was an agent. The man would get frustrated with something he did and backhand him. It always happened. "J-Just don't tell M-Miss Sara."

Peter nodded swiftly. He knew what Neal was about to tell him took a lot of courage and trust for him. "She won't know. I swear." He crossed his heart at Neal's distrustful look.

The young man stared at his wrists. "Please," he whispered. Neal needed a break…even a small one. He couldn't take another beating.

A warm, large hand slid into his. That hand just rested against his and didn't try to link their fingers or clamp together. Neal stared at it, the feeling and look so alien. That hand wasn't his and was gentle. It didn't demand, it didn't shout or call him names. It didn't think he was disgusting, or leave him with bruises. He closed his eyes to draw in all his courage and began his story.

It had all started with Neal Caffrey's insatiable flirting. To him, it meant nothing but to Kate, it hurt. He flirted with everyone, men, women, and even the cable guy. Most of it was subtle but there were several times he outright flirted. She had told him that she didn't like it, but he told her that this was the way he was.

He rationalized that Kate finally lost it when a waitress placed her number directly into Neal's breast pocket right in front of her. And he smiled at her and thanked her. That's when she started to plan to see if Neal was really faithful to her. Neal needed to learn that if he was going to be in a relationship with her, he belonged to her.

He remembered the conversation that spurred the trap for him. "Neal." He looked at Kate from behind his book, his legs in her lap as they sat on the couch. "What would you think of us having a threesome?"

The man's eyes widened. "What?" He shut his book. "Kate, am I…am I not enough for you?" Neal sat forward and gripped her hands.

She closed the gap with a kiss. "Of course you are. I just thought that you would like to have one. You flirt and I assumed that you want someone new."

"I don't want anyone but you." He furrowed his brow. "Do you really want a threesome? Because if you do, I won't object." He flashed her a smile that she returned. She began making the plans the following day.

xxWCxx

They chose a neutral place and Neal was going to meet Kate's friend for the first time. While they rode the elevator to the floor of their room, Neal squeezed his girlfriend's hand. "Are you ready for this?"

She smiled. "Yeah, are you?" When he nodded shyly, she laughed. "You know we'll take care of you." She pressed a kiss to his lips.

"Let's go. I don't want to keep your friend waiting." He took her hand as she lead them to the hotel room.

Kate unlocked the room with the key the front desk handed her. She smiled at Neal as she tugged him into the room. "Sara, this is my lovely boyfriend, Neal," Kate introduced while the man shut the door.

Neal looked to the bed and saw a redhead woman a pink camisole and pink lace panties sitting on the bed casually like what she was wearing was normal. He couldn't believe that Kate would let him have a threesome with a woman just as beautiful as herself.

"Hello, Neal. Why don't you come sit on the bed and make yourself comfortable?" she suggested while holding her hand out to Kate. When the other woman was standing in front of her, she pushed the jacket from the raven's shoulders and let it fall on the floor.

The man sat next to them, watching them curiously. He was lucky to have Kate and for her to do this for him was unbelievable. When the jacket hit the ground, Kate's purple corset top and silk panties were visible.

"You told me he was sex on legs but that's not adequate. He's a god," Sara purred. "You are a lucky woman." The redhead's hands brushed along Kate's sides to rest on her hips. "Why don't you help Neal get comfortable?"

Kate nodded and made her way to him. She pressed a gentle kiss to his lips before shoving him down on the bed. "There is no need to be nervous," she whispered as she leaned over him.

Neal pressed a lingering kiss to her lips. A low moan left his throat as Kate dropped her hips to his. He was hyper vigilant and caught Sara out of the corner of his eye.

She sat next to Neal's head and leaned down as Kate released the man's mouth. She peppered small kisses to her cheek, lips, and down her neck. Sara watched Neal out of the corner of her eye for a few seconds before turning her attention to him.

Sara laid a hand on his chest to steady herself as she leaned down to kiss him. Neal stretched up to meet her and used a hand to cup her face.

There was a low growl from Kate. At that moment, he thought she was turned on and was just expressing it. Then she shifted on his hips, pressing so deliciously against him, and grabbed something under the mattress.

Sara moved away from Neal to regain her breath and shot a look over at Kate, who now had a hypodermic needle in her hand. "Do it," she ordered.

As recognition flitted across his face, the redhead grasped his wrists and pinned him to the bed. Before Neal could fight back, Kate jabbed the needle into his neck and deposited the fluid into his bloodstream. "K-Kate?"

"You are a filthy, disgusting pig, Neal. You need to learn your place," she spat at him as she moved off his body and left the room.

Neal felt heavy and he couldn't move his arms or legs to get away from Sara, from Kate and from everything that had gone wrong. He wanted to scream but all that left his throat was a mangled whimper. He heard Sara scoff at him. She thought his fear was funny and that infuriated him. When he tried to act on his anger, he managed to fall off the bed and his world went black.

When he woke up, he was in the room Peter had found him in. He was stripped and cold. The bright light above his head blinded him for a moment before his eyes adjusted. "Kate?" he called out hoarsely.

He sat up and noticed to door across from him. He tried to stand but his legs wouldn't hold him, instead he crawled over to it. Neal banged his hand against the door harshly and quickly while screaming for Kate. Small splinters caused him minute pain and didn't stop his knocking.

He stopped momentarily when he thought he heard footsteps. Suddenly, the door swung open, catching him in the stomach and knocking his body against the wall behind the door. His breath left his body in a harsh gust and his head thudded painfully against the wall.

"Oh no you don't. You don't get to pass out on me." It was Sara as she leaned over him to grab a handful of hair and pull him up onto the bed he hadn't realized was there. She removed her hand from the current clump of hair to the hair on the nape of his neck. "Listen here, you bastard. You will keep quite." She stopped for a second and watched the glossy look fade from his eyes.

She took a needle from her pocket and uncapped it with her teeth. He didn't even have time to defend himself. Sara jabbed it into his neck and dispensed the drug. "You will keep quite or I will come back in here and beat you until you can't breathe."

Sara tossed the needle onto the floor so she could squeeze his balls hard. He almost screamed but her threat wasn't an idle one. He let out a barely audible gasp. "If you piss me off enough, these," she tightened her grip, "get cut off."

Neal nodded. His eyes were sliding closed even though he was trying to watch Sara.

The redhead let him go and he immediately fell backwards, curling onto his side. "You know why you're here. Don't fight it or you won't survive long." A small whimper was her answer and she left.

The mattress was lumpy under his back and the room was too cold. His vision was tunneling in on him and his balls ached.

Before he was dragged under, Neal couldn't believe that he had went from a beautiful threesome to a horrible nightmare.

When he finished telling his story, Neal stared at the clock without really seeing it. He was afraid of Peter's reaction and what that would mean for where he lived. He knew that there was a chance of him being committed to a psychiatric ward. That frightened him more than anything else.

A rough, warm hand landed on his shoulder, startling him and the hand withdrew. "I'm going to catch them for you, Neal. They will never be able to hurt you again."

The younger man still didn't look at Peter, his hands were more interesting. "Okay," he eventually mumbled. "Peter, when's the psychologist going to be here?"

"I'm a psychiatrist and my name is Dr. Akers," a short, raven haired man said from the doorway. "Hello, Mr. Caffrey," he greeted as he made his way to Neal's bed. He extended his hand to Neal and he shook it. "How are you feeling?"

Neal looked at him from the corner of his eye. "Tired and hungry." Peter shifted away from the bed, causing Neal to look at him. "Don't leave," he pleaded, reaching for Peter's hand again. He didn't want to be left alone with Dr. Akers. The man wasn't scary but he liked the agent's presence. It calmed him.

Peter smiled at him and patted his hand. El had told him to use small physical touches to calm and reassure Neal. "I was going to see where Kyla was with your food. I'll be right back." He went for the doorway but the young man grabbed his wrist. He knew by that action that Neal wasn't comfortable with Dr. Akers. "Is it okay if I stay?" he asked as he sat in the chair next to the bed.

"Of course. I want Neal to be as comfortable as possible." Dr. Akers tugged a chair closer to Neal's bed but not next to Peter. He took the messenger bag off his shoulder and placed it next to his chair and pulled out a file. "What is your relationship with Peter?" The psychiatrist caught the agent's name when he had walked in.

"H-he found me. H-he took me away from M-miss Sara." Neal cast a glance at the agent. He wanted to hold his hand but he had a feeling that if he just took a hold of it, that Peter wouldn't like it. When the doctor started talking, he tore his gaze from Peter.

"Did you want him to take you from Miss Sara?" Dr. Akers took the pencil from behind his ear.

Neal started at the question, eyes wide as he stared at Akers. For the first time in three years, he got angry. Why did the doctor think he wanted to stay with them? Sure, he had been reluctant to leave but he was just not used to the sounds of New York. "W-what? Y-you think that I wanted to be abused and raped for another year? Of course I wanted out of there!" The younger man slumped against the bed, tears in his eyes, his energy dissipated .

"Dr. Akers, what exactly are you getting at?" Peter asked, "Those women hurt him. He doesn't have Stockholm Syndrome."

"But one of his captors was his girlfriend, correct? Wouldn't he want to stay with them to be with her?" Dr. Akers countered.

The younger man squirmed on the bed. He hated being talked about like he wasn't there. Sara and Alex did it to him all the time, most of the time to upset him. "I didn't love her after she let Miss Sara beat me and drug me. She hated me after I agreed to the threesome." Neal's tone was quiet but there was an undertone of malice as he talked about Sara.

"How do you feel about Sara?" At Neal's furrowed brows, Akers elaborated, "If you were to see her again, what would you do?"

He looked away from them both. Anxiety and fear spiked, causing his fingers to knot into the blanket. "I'd run. I would get as far away as possible. She is a cruel, horrifying woman." Peter's hand suddenly covered his, startling him but he relaxed.

"You won't see her again, Neal. I won't let her get to you again," Peter promised, his hand squeezing Neal's.

Dr. Akers scribbled notes into the file on his lap. "Peter, you can't promise that. There is no way for you to be truly certain that you will apprehend Sara and Kate," he stated. "All you're doing is giving him false hope."

"I will catch them, I have to." Peter curled his fingers tighter around Neal's in a silent promise. "Could we please get back to Neal? He would like to get out of here as soon as possible."

The doctor nodded. As he went to ask the question, Kyla finally came back to the room with Neal's food. "Here you go, Mr. Caffrey."

Even though Kyla had been nice to him, the young man leaned away from her as she placed the tray on the movable table. She wheeled it over to him. "Thank you."

She smiled at him and asked if he needed anything else. When she received a shake of his head, Kyla made her way out of the room.

Just from watching Neal's reaction to the nurse, Dr. Akers knew that Neal was going to need counseling and to possibly be committed. The man couldn't function in normal society. He would have constant panic attacks.

Neal slipped his hand from the agent's and grabbed a cup of Jell-O and the spoon. His fingers trembled as he opened the container.

"Why did you lean away from the nurse that just came in?" Akers asked, his pencil poised.

He put his Jell-O down and shot a glance at Peter's hand still on the bed. Neal clasped his hands together before answering Dr. Akers. "I-I don't know. S-she treats m-me nicely a-and that s-scared me. Miss K-Kate said she loved me and then she and Miss Sara and Miss Alex physically, emotionally, and psychologically broke me."

Dr. Akers nodded and scrawled some notes before asking, "Neal, do you trust Peter?"

After some fidgeting and two spoonfuls of Jell-O later, Neal finally mumbled, "A little bit." He caught the slight smile on Peter's face at his answer.

Dr. Akers looked between the two men. "Based on Neal's answers, I think he needs to stay here, in the rehab center, so I can keep an eye on him." He closed his notepad and tucked it in his bag. "I'll have you transferred before dinner."

He was going to be committed. He would never be able to go outside again. Neal had went from one locked room to another. He looked at Peter who was squeezing his hand harshly. The agent didn't want him there either.

* * *

><p>So tell me how you feel about Akers and Kyla. I'm really curious. I'll try and get another chapter in before school starts again in January.<p> 


	4. Misplaced

So I made this a super long chapter because there just didn't seem to be a definite cut-off. I hope to upload again soon.

**Warnings: **None

**Disclaimer: **I do not own White Collar

* * *

><p>Peter walked him to the psychiatric ward. He placed his hand on the small of Neal's back as he guided him down the hallway.<p>

Neal stopped periodically and tried to backtrack but the agent would catch him around the middle and start him walking again. "I-I don't w-want to," he finally choked out when Peter let out a frustrated sigh when he tried for the sixth time.

"I know," Peter said as he tightened his arm around Neal. "But you'll get better here. They'll take good care of you."

The younger man stopped completely and looked up at Peter with eyes full of tears. "Y-you don't want me anymore? Y-you're g-giving me away?" He knew that he wouldn't be able to stay with the man forever but he hadn't even left the hospital yet and Peter was transferring him to someone new.

"What are you talking about? You're going to the psychiatric ward so you can get out of the hospital. I'm not giving you away or giving up on you." He hesitantly wiped away the tears on the man's cheeks.

Neal looked sheepishly down at his feet. "S-so you're not going to leave?" The man knew that the ward was going to help him get better but he didn't want to be left behind. He wanted to be with Peter. The older man was kind and more thoughtful than any other of his clients.

"I'm not going to leave until they make me, okay?" Peter had felt like that was the right thing to tell him. It seemed to reassure him enough to get him to start walking down the hall again.

As they stood in front of the locked double doors, Neal mumbled, "You promise?" These doors were daunting. The young man placed his hand on the door to feel the hardness of it, the tickness. This was his new prison.

Peter almost missed the small question. "Of course. I won't lie to you, Neal." The agent meant what he said.

The doors opened after Akers typed in a code on the keypad next to the door. "Let's get you cleaned up, Neal. It'll make you feel much better."

Since the agent made his promise to Neal, he got to watch two orderlies part the younger man's hair, lips, and cheeks. He got to listen to Neal's soft whimpers as these two men put their hands all over him. He watched as the trembling began. "You do know that he was held against his will and has been in the hospital for the past two days, right?"

"It's protocol, Agent. Every new patient receives a thorough cavity search. We can't compromise the safety of the patients," the blonde orderly said as he gently maneuvered Neal to the shower. "Wash up for me, then we'll get you some new clothes, okay?"

Neal shot a look over the blonde's shoulder to Peter. When the man nodded at him, he stepped into the shower. There was no curtain so all three men could watch him.

"So you also know that he has been badly traumatized and will lash out at anyone he feels is threatening him." The blonde turned from Neal and said in a hushed tone, "I don't know if you noticed but he tensed when I was checking his anus. He's got seven stitches up there. If he thought I was going to try, he could've easily attacked me. And that's why we do full body cavity searches on everyone. Sexually abused patients are the most difficult to handle. He'll try to protect himself from anyone."

Peter nodded, now understanding where the orderly was coming from. He cast a look at Neal to find the man staring at him. "Are you finished, Neal?"

The younger man nodded. Kyla had washed him when he had arrived to the hospital so all he had to do was wash his hair. He watched the orderly turn off the water and hand him a towel.

"You can use a razor today. From now on, you'll have to ask permission to use one and only if a nurse or an orderly is in the room with you," the blonde explained. "My name is James and that is Pat," he introduced as he pointed at the other, dark skinned orderly. "You can ask for us at any time, okay?"

Neal nodded. "Y-you said I could have some clothes?" The young man didn't feel comfortable standing in just a towel.

"I'll go get you some," Pat said and left the room. A second later a crackle came from the radio on James' hip and he answered the static voice.

"I can trust to leave you two alone while I go handle another patient, right?" At Peter's nod, James made his way out of the bathroom. "Pat should be right back anyway," James said over his shoulder as he left the room.

As soon as the door clicked closed, Neal's eyes locked onto Peter's. "You like to watch," he said matter-of-factly. He realized that the man liked to watch other people handle Neal and make him do humiliating things.

Peter creased his brows in thought. "What do you mean?" Was he talking about Peter watching him? He didn't want to take his eyes off of Neal, afraid if he did the man would disappear.

"You like it when they touch me. W-when they make me put my hands on the wall and let them poke and prod me like a piece of meat. Or you watch me while I shower." Not one word was accusatory but a bland, overstated fact. Neal shifted uncomfortably when the agent just stared at him.

"Neal," he started slowly, "you think I like that they had to do a cavity search? Or that there is no curtain on your shower? I don't like it one bit. You deserve privacy and you can't even have it now." Peter looked at how open everything was. No blinds on the windows, no shower curtain, no locks on the door, no bathroom door. This wasn't going to help Neal. He clenched his hands into fists.

If Peter wasn't happy with the room, why didn't he get another? Neal didn't want the man mad. "I'm sorry." The man dropped to his knees.

Peter stopped his criticism of the room immediately and knelt before the younger man before something inappropriate happened. "You have nothing to apologize for. This isn't your fault." Slowly, he levered Neal up. He didn't know what else to say until he caught sight of the razor. "Why don't you shave? I'll wait outside to give you some time to collect yourself."

Neal didn't look up from the floor. He was acting like a damn fool. The room wasn't his fault, none of this was but he couldn't stop punishing himself.

Slowly, he brought his eyes to the mirror. The man that stared back at him was not him! Had he really lost that much weight? He looked like a goddamn skeleton. His eyes were sunken in, his prominent cheekbones stuck out oddly, his cheeks sunken. His luscious, thick hair was thinning. The tendons in his neck stood out grotesquely. His once fit stomach was now concave. He looked so bony and his skin was white as a sheet.

That was not him. He was beautiful and everyone wanted him. No one would want this…and yet how many clients had he had? Hundreds. All they needed was a tight ass, not a pretty face.

That face in the mirror was a lie. He grabbed the razor from the edge of the sink and stabbed the handle into the reflection. "Liar!" he screamed. His copy split into a hundred copies, mocking him from all angles. He stabbed it again and again while howling liar at it until Peter's hands were on his shoulders, tugging him away from the sharp shards of himself.

"Neal, drop the razor now!" Pat demanded from the doorway. He had a baton in his hand.

Peter gripped the wrist of the hand that held the razor. "Neal, it's okay. Let go of the razor." When the razor was released, he kicked it away from them and to the orderlies.

Neal stared at the demolished mirror, quite pleased with himself. He was jostled out of his thoughts by Peter's hand on his face.

"Who's the liar, Neal?" he repeated for the second time as he finally received the man's attention. Neal's blood was staining his fingers from the cuts on the younger man's hand.

"The mirror. He wasn't me. I-I don't look like that." Neal was coming back to himself and realized that he and Peter weren't alone. James was taking a broom and dustpan from the closet and Pat was putting his baton away.

"Agent Burke, bring him out here and we'll get him dressed. Then we'll head to the nurses' station," Pat suggested. "They can patch him up there."

There was shards of mirror everywhere so Peter hoisted Neal up bridal style. The younger man burrowed his face into the agent's neck, embarrassed by his actions. "I'm sorry," he said as Peter set him on the floor.

Peter shook his head, "No, I'm sorry. I should've stayed in the room with you." He backed away from Neal as Pat came closer. "I'll help James clean up." He headed to the sink where the large shards had fallen.

While Peter was cleaning, Neal got dressed. When he finished donning the ill fitting gray cotton shirt and pants, Pat steered him to the nurses' station. A nurse inspected the cuts and finding no slivers of glass, she wrapped his hand up in gauze. He thanked her and went back to his room. Pat's large, dark skinned hand on his elbow.

Peter was standing by the door. "I've got to go back to work, Neal. I'll come see you tomorrow, okay?"

The young man shook his head. "Don't leave me here, please, Peter," he begged. "I'll behave, I will! I-I won't break anything else. Just don't leave." A large wave a despair crashed onto Neal as he watched the agent huff and still tell him no.

"I need to get back to work." At Neal's desperate and dejected look, the man reached forward, placing his hand on his shoulder. "I don't want to leave but I have to."

Neal realized that no matter how much he begged, Peter would not stay. "Okay." He moved away from the large, warm hand and climbed into his bed, his back to Peter.

"Don't be like that, Neal. Remember what I said earlier? I won't leave unless I have to." Peter went to move closer to the bed but thought better of it when he saw Neal tense. "I don't want to leave you here, but it's what's best." With that, the agent and the orderlies left.

Neal laid on his bed, knees curled to his chest, and tears on his face. Any sense of peace and calmness he had had, left with the agent. Neal knew it wouldn't come back until Peter did.

xxWCxx

On the way back to the office, Peter dialed Elizabeth. "So I think Neal is mad at me for leaving him at the hospital," he began.

El paused, surprised by his opening comment. "Wait, he wasn't discharged today?"

"No. Dr. Akers, a psychiatrist, had him transferred to the psych ward this afternoon. When I told him I had to go back to work, he looked real hurt, El." Peter ran a hand over his face. "I feel like I let him down. But after he shattered his mirror, I thought it would be best that I give him some time to calm himself and Hughes called to tell me I need to get to work."

"Peter, you did what you needed to. When you see him again, apologize for leaving him. He can't be that mad at you."

"He wouldn't look at me when I left." Peter parked his car and sighed. "I feel terrible for leaving him there. I know he doesn't like it and doesn't feel comfortable there."

"Then try to get him out of there as fast as you can. Have Neal show the doctor that he is capable of being with other people. Or have him transferred to a private institution."

A smile crossed the man's face. "Thank you, El. I've got to work now, I'll talk to you later."

"Anytime, Peter. See you tonight. Oh, and we're having spaghetti for dinner." And with that, she hung up.

Peter knew what he needed to do to get Neal out of there and into a more comfortable place for him to get help.

xxWCxx

Neal's dinner was brought to his room. He poked at it and barely ate any of the light soup they gave him. He pushed the tray away and curled back under the sheets.

Peter had left him alone with a lot of strangers. How was this psych ward going to help him? He was terrified to leave his room. And what if they didn't let Peter come see him? He knew that Peter wouldn't be able to see him as much because he would be in group therapy and with Dr. Akers.

Dr. Akers had come into check on him and explain his schedule. He was supposed to be up at 7:00 a.m., breakfast at 7:30 a.m., his first meeting with Dr. Akers at 8:00 a.m., he had free time from 9:30 a.m. to 12:00 p.m., lunch at 12:00 p.m., his mens group at 1:00 p.m., his daily chore was to be done by 3:00 p.m., his second meeting with Dr. Akers at 4:00 p.m., dinner at 5:00 p.m., and lights out by 10:00 p.m. What a drab life.

"C-can I go outside during my free time?" he asked. He wanted to go outside, he missed it.

Dr. Akers smiled, "Of course you can, Neal. We have a small flower garden out there that you can look at."

Neal nodded, trying not to show how happy he was. Akers may take it away if he misbehaved. He could go outside! Neal had never been so excited to go outside but he had missed it for three years. Natural sunlight was a foreign to his body now.

"Neal, I need to tell you that to be able to go outside, you have to have your chore done and ask permission." Akers handed him a small piece of paper that had a map of the ward. "I'll give you permission if our sessions go well, otherwise you'll have to get it from your group doctor."

The younger man nodded his understanding. "How do you determine if our session goes well?"

Akers clasped his hands in front of him. "Most of our sessions will be comprised of questions and if you answer the majority of them or I feel that you have made some progress then our session will be a good one."

Neal wouldn't answer questions unless Peter said he could. "When is Peter coming back?" Neal was still hurt by the agent leaving him but he wanted him to come back.

The doctor stared at the floor for a second before looking up at Neal. "You know he can't see you unless it's your free time and only if I think that you're fit to see him."

"I'm fit to see Peter whenever I want. He's good for me and you know it." Neal pulled the covers up to his chest, suddenly afraid of Akers. The man could be pissed that he said that.

The doctor shrugged. "Neal, I'm your doctor. I see the difference in you when Agent Burke is here. But if I don't think you can handle a visitor, then they don't come in. I'm looking out for your best interest."

Neal caved under the man's gaze. "I know." He dug his thumb into his bruised wrist under the sheets. He was pathetic for not fighting for what he wanted. It would be his fault if Peter was turned away.

Dr. Akers pager began to beep. The man checked it. "I need to get going, Neal. I'll see you tomorrow at 8:00 a.m."

xxWCxx

Peter hadn't stopped by in three days. For three days he hadn't eaten. For three days he went through the motions of group and Dr. Akers sessions. For three days he slept in late and missed breakfast. For three days he didn't shower. For three days he hadn't shaved.

Dr. Akers sat in the chair next to Neal's bed. Neal's face was buried in his pillow, his eyes watching the man. "Are you going to eat today, Neal?"

He shook his head. "'m not hungry." The sound of the chair scraping against the floor and footsteps came as a relief for Neal. The man was leaving. Suddenly there was a small, plastic cup with two pills in it thrust in his face.

"This should help you feel a little better." Akers held out a glass of water, waiting for Neal to take the proffered glass.

Cautiously, the younger man took the pills from Akers hand. "What is it?" He almost handed them back when he was told. "Anti-depressants? I-I don't need these. I'm not depressed."

"You need them. You're starving yourself. Do you think Peter would want you to do this to yourself?" He asked that every day and got no response. Anything to do with Peter would make Neal clam up and bury his face in his pillow.

"I don't want to talk about Peter. He doesn't care or he would be here," he mumbled. He threw the pills across the room. He faintly heard his name over the loud speaker but made no move to get up as Dr. Akers went on.

"Neal, look at me," Akers demanded. "There was no need to do that." The psychiatrist snatched the pills off the floor. "You can't let Peter control your life. You have to eat and just because Peter isn't here to tell you to, doesn't mean that you don't."

Neal flipped around, no longer looking at Akers. "Don't talk about Peter." He tugged his blankets around his shoulders. "I want to sleep." He listened to Akers footsteps fade out the door.

xxWCxx

Peter was frustrated. He was beyond frustrated. Akers wouldn't let him see Neal for three days. He tried to convince the doctor that Neal just needed to see him for an hour, that was it. But Akers wouldn't let him in.

The agent realized that he was going about this the wrong way. He needed to be on federal business.

So as the thick double door was opened, he flashed his badge. "I need to speak to Neal Caffrey."

The petite nurse looked shocked to see his badge and waved him in. "Of course. Come on in." She paged Neal over the intercom, seeing as she wasn't sure where he was.

After several minutes, she paged Dr. Akers. When he arrived, he shook his finger at Peter. "You shouldn't be here. I told you Neal isn't ready to see you."

"Tell me how he's doing." Peter was done being told he couldn't see Neal and not knowing if he was progressing.

"I'm sorry but I can't tell you. Patient/doctor confidentiality and all." Akers went to walk away but Peter stopped him.

Peter placed his hand on the doctor's shoulder. "I need to speak to him. It's about his stolen property investigation."

"I want to be there with him just to make sure." Akers walked away without another word.

"I'm sorry but it's an open investigation. You have no need to be there." The agent smirked. "Show me where his room is, now."

Akers glared minutely at Peter through his glasses before turning on his heel and walking away with the agent close behind him. "Before I let you see him, I need to let you know a couple things."

Peter nodded. "Is it about Neal's progress? Is he doing any better?" The agent wanted him to get better and be able to lead a somewhat normal life.

Akers looked down to the pad of paper in his hand. "With victims of prolonged sexual abuse, one of the things we notice is that they cover for the abuser. Neal doesn't do that. He has malice towards the women.

"Another thing is he's real submissive when you're here, otherwise, he's difficult. That's quite odd." The psychiatrist looked to Peter, hoping the man could help him decipher the enigma that was Neal Caffrey. "And I still can't get a straight answer from him when I try to talk to him about his family."

"I haven't asked him about his family. What does he say?" From what he could remember was that Neal had a mother in Florida but that was it.

"His most current one is that his mother abandoned him when he was just a toddler and he raised himself. Yesterday he said…" Akers flipped a page or two until he came across it, "his mother and father were killed in front of him when they left early from an opera."

Peter scoffed and shook his head, "That's the background for Bruce Wayne." A small smile crossed his face. Neal sure knew how to give someone the run around.

"There is one more thing I want to tell you." The psychiatrist looked apprehensive. "Typically when we have someone who has be chronically sexually abused like Neal, they need constant guidance and approval. They also have a mind akin to that of a child."

"Are you telling me he's a child?" Peter knew Neal was much smarter than that, he had seen it.

"No. I've been asking him to tell me about anything that captures his attention or upsets him. He often goes on a tangent and uses SAT words, so I know that he's smart. The only times he acts like a child are when we want him to do something and he doesn't. He's extremely uncooperative when I tell him that you aren't coming."

"What do you mean? What do you ask him to do?" Now Peter was worried that Neal was being asked to do inappropriate things.

"Most of the time it's when we want him to shower or get out of bed." Akers shrugged. "He's depressed and I can't get him to take the pills. He lets them sit on the counter or he throws them across the room."

"I'll see what I can do, but no promises." Peter motioned for him to show him the way to Neal's room. "If that's all, I'd like to see him."

The first thing the agent noticed when he walked into Neal's room was the shivering lump under the blankets. The thread bare sheets were up to his shoulders and his legs were tucked to his chest.

"Why is he cold? Can't you give him a couple more blankets?" Peter stalked over to the bed and, as gently as possible, placed his hand on the man's shoulder. At the doctor's 'it's protocol' answer, Peter turn to Neal. "Hey, Neal, it's Peter." For now, Peter didn't care if Akers was there, he was with Neal now and that's all that mattered.

Neal turned his head slightly and peered at the looming man above him. "Dr. Akers?" He reached forward and pressed his hand against the man's chest, feeling the silkiness of a tie. Dr. Akers didn't wear a tie. He then shook his head of the thoughts. A man can change his wardrobe at anytime and maybe Akers decided on a tie today.

He refused to believe that it was Peter, he had believed that so many times before and it crushed him each time it turned out to be an orderly or Dr. Akers.

Peter could see the confusion and mistrust in his eyes. "It really is me, Neal. And...I'm sorry for leaving you alone." Seeing as the man was still wary about him, the agent said, "I need to ask you some questions about your mortgage fraud case." Peter sat down on the bed, careful not to get too close to him. "Neal, will you look at me?"

If it really was Peter, then Neal needed to listen to him. If he disobeyed, then he would leave again, and maybe this time for good. Slowly he turned his body towards the agent. "If I answer your questions, will you stay for a while?" Even if he wasn't real, it was good enough for Neal to keep pretending. He just wanted the man to talk to him.

Peter cast a glance at Akers but ignored him. "Yeah, I've been trying to talk to you for three days now."

Opening and closing his mouth a couple times, Neal sat up suddenly and looked for the psychiatrist. Once his eyes landed on him, Neal glared at Akers, anger apparent. "Y-you kept him from me? I-I begged you to let me see him!" Tears started to cloud his vision. "I need him," he whispered. "I need him to tell me what to do. You – you can't keep me from my master!" Neal slapped his hands over his mouth. He didn't want Dr. Akers to know that.

The agent tried to catch Neal's eyes but he refused to look up from his blankets. Placing a gentle hand on Neal's, Peter said, "I'm your master because I took you away from Sara."

Neal nodded minutely. "When I'm lent out to a client, they are my master until I'm returned to Miss Sara," he stated easily. "I have to listen to their every command."

Both Akers and Peter looked at each other, not daring to correct Neal. Those men and women weren't clients but rapists. Peter changed the topic before Akers could start analyzing Neal. "How are you doing here?"

Finally he raised his blue eyes to Peter's and was confused by the look of concern. "It's alright."

"Are you lying to me, Neal?" Peter could smell the sweat on Neal's skin and see the beginnings of a beard.

Casting a glance at Akers, the man shook his head. "It really is okay. I-It's just hard a-adjusting." His sunk down in the bed, a sudden chill filling the room.

Peter sighed at his answer but didn't fight him. "Are you sleeping okay?" If the bags under his eyes were anything to go by, he definitely wasn't. "Don't lie to me," he added.

"I-I can't unless Dr. Akers g-gives me pills. And I get c-cold a lot." He pulled on the blankets again but to no avail.

The agent tugged his suit jacket off and laid it across Neal. "I'll see what I can do about the temperature of your room." He shot a look at Akers trying to get him out of the room.

"I'll go talk to an engineer then," Akers said absently as he got up and left the room.

When Akers was gone, Neal visibly relaxed against the bed. "Peter…" he started but he continued to struggle with what he wanted to say.

"Do you really like it here, Neal?" At the man's soft shake of his head, Peter sighed. "You should've told me." Neal's face dropped. "I'm going to start looking into a private institution for you. You don't like it here and Akers is a pain."

Neal nodded as he quietly pressed his thumb into his wrist. Peter wasn't happy that he lied but he didn't make a move to punish him…why? "Am I in trouble?" he asked a couple minutes later.

"No. Have you been doing what Akers tells you to?" Peter knew he wasn't, otherwise Akers would've let him in.

"I-I haven't been showering, or eating. I d-don't tell him everything when I go to his sessions. I don't talk in g-group. I don't like group." Peter didn't want him to lie and he wouldn't, not anymore. "I want to go home with you."

"I know but you'll get better here. I'm going to get you into a private institution. But from now on, I want you to do everything Akers wants you to." Peter touched the young man's arm through the covers. "Why don't you go take a shower and then you can show me around, okay?"

He nodded and waited for Peter to get off the bed. Then he slipped into the bathroom, thankful that the agent didn't follow. When he was dry and dressed in the new uniform that Peter got him, he cautiously made his way down the hallway.

"You've never been out of your room, have you," the agent chuckled as he tugged his jacket on. "I think I saw a patio that we can go to, come on." Peter placed a hand on the small of his back and led him to the door that went outside. There was a keypad on the wall next to the door. He waved a nurse over. "Can you let us out, please?"

She looked at Neal, who side-stepped behind Peter. "Did his psychiatrist or group leader give him permission?"

"No, but I'm an FBI agent and I need to ask him a couple questions. I don't want anyone to overhear." He handed her his badge when asked and then she let them out.

Sunshine hit Neal square in the face. He was blinded for a second before Peter fitted him with a pair of sunglasses from his suit jacket. "I forgot you haven't been outside for a while."

Neal slid into the sun and gladly bathed in it. He tilted his face up and closed his eyes. This is what freedom felt like. When he was done sunbathing for the moment, Neal looked to the agent and saw him smiling.

"Why don't you walk with me?" He motioned for Neal to walk beside him. They walked quietly for a while, Neal's fingers skimming over the flower petals. The patio wasn't large but held 25 planters with perennials, and a brick walkway with four benches against the walls.

To Neal's dismay, the patio was enclosed. Glass panels encircled them and rose high above their heads, like a greenhouse. The young man wanted to go to a park and lay on the grass, feel the wind, smell the dirt, and see how the world changed in the three years he was missing.

After lapsing into a comfortable silence, Peter sat on a bench. He watched Neal squat and carefully, delicately cup a flower to smell it. Seeing Neal cherish the littlest things - the flowers, sunshine, being outside - made Peter start to slow his mind and take in all the beauty around him.

Before he saw the younger man look at these flowers with a delicacy that Peter did not posses, to him they were just plants that spread pollen and made his allergies act up. Now he saw the subtle changes in hues on the flowers and the brilliant shifts in colors and flowers in the flower beds.

The agent was pulled from his musings when Neal turned to him and said, "Dicentra spectabilis."

Peter wracked his brain for what the man was referring to. "Dice – what are you talking about, Neal?"

"Dicentra spectabilis, but it's most commonly called Bleeding Heart," he said as he pointed to the flower. The soft pink petals created a small heart and was broken at the bottom to let out a flimsy white petal, making it look like the flower was bleeding.

The agent nodded, not quite sure what to say. He watched Neal turn back to the flowers. Peter kept an eye on the man for awhile before Neal made his way to the bench. He took one of Peter's hands and placed a Bleeding Heart bloom in his palm.

Neal looked down at his hands. "When do you think I'll be out of here?" he asked quietly.

"As soon as I get you into a private institution." Peter stared at the flower before fingering it gently to feel the soft silkiness of the petals. The agent then tucked it in the breast pocket of his jacket. "What do you want?"

The young man jerked his head up at the question. "What do I want? I-I don't know w-what you m-mean."

"What do you want? Privacy? To go outside?" Peter offered. At Neal's nod, the agent said, "I'll look at places that have yards and single rooms. Anything else?"

"Can there be a garden? I like the colors." He pointed to the flowers in front of him. "I like to draw them." Neal hadn't even touched a piece of paper in three years and a pen felt awkward in his hand.

"Alright." The agent shifted, his shoulder brushing against Neal's. "Sorry," he mumbled.

Neal was dumbfounded. The agent just apologized to him! He stared at him for a couple seconds before saying, "You don't have to apologize. I'm too close." The younger man scooted a couple inches away from the agent.

"Don't worry about, Neal. It's okay." Peter patted the man's knee and casually placed it back in his lap when Neal pulled away. He realized that he was pushing a boundary.

"I like Dr. Akers," he murmured. "He cares but not enough to try new tactics." Neal tugged his sleeves down to his fingers. He didn't want Peter to see that his bruises were still there.

Peter grunted his assent. "Are you actually trying to work with him or are you stalling for me to get you out of here?" A smile twitched on his lips. "I heard your _stories_ of where your parents are. You used Batman, really? Could you be a little more original?"

"I wanted to see if he could figure me out. And he didn't…you did." Neal realized that Peter could see through him and he couldn't hide anything from him.

The door opened and an elderly black woman ushered a young man out onto the patio.

"This isn't a game, Neal. We're talking about your health." Peter gave him a stern look. "You need to work with Akers. If you honestly work with him and it still doesn't help, then I'll get you into a new place."

Neal nodded, realizing that the man wasn't pleased with him. He tucked his legs into his chest and cast a glance at the other people.

"Do you want to go back inside?" He knew Neal didn't feel comfortable with the other people around them.

The young man nodded. He didn't want to go back inside, there was a chance that Akers would make Peter leave. But the woman and patient were making him anxious. "I think it's dinner time. You'll eat with me?"

"Yeah, I will." Peter stood up and waited for Neal to do so. They made their way inside, the agent's hand on the small of Neal's back. "Where do you eat?"

"My room," came the sheepish reply. "I don't eat and the other patients get too close to me." Neal lead them to his room and sat on his bed. "Akers or an orderly usually bring me some food."

"What's for dinner?" At the other man's shrug, Peter plopped down into a chair. "What do you usually have?"

Another shrug and Neal tugged at his sleeves. "Soup, crackers, and mashed potatoes. They give me stuff that won't upset my stomach."

Akers hadn't told him about any sickness Neal was having. "Why? Do you feel alright?"

"I throw it up most of the time." Neal's hand flattened against his stomach. "It's nerves and the food doesn't always agree with me."

"Don't they give you something to settle your stomach?" At the shake of Neal's head, he asked, "Why?"

"They don't know when something will make me throw up. It's a sudden reaction. Akers said that I might be eating too much for my stomach to handle." Neal curled his arms around his stomach as if it hurt now.

"Ah, Neal, you're back," Akers declared as he walked in with a tray of food. "Are you hungry? I have some soup for you." He placed the tray on the table and wheeled it closer to Neal. "Let me know if you like it." The young psychiatrist left the room.

The young man picked up the spoon and stirred the soup but didn't eat any. "I don't feel good. It smells terrible and makes me queasy."

Peter tugged the tray away. "Did you eat chicken soup while you were in captivity?" The agent knew that Neal would refuse food, but he needed it.

"Yeah, I was sick. I hadn't eaten a solid meal in months." Neal pulled his legs up to his chest and rested his cheek on his knee. "My stomach cramped badly and constantly. Sara force fed me some soup because I couldn't manage to get a spoon in my mouth."

"So you have a food aversion to chicken noodle soup?" The younger man nodded. "Did you tell Akers this?"

"No, he never asked. He thinks that I still have a sensitive stomach from not eating nutritious meals." Neal looked at the soup and hugged his stomach.

"Will you eat these?" Peter asked as he handed him a package of crackers. "It should help a bit."

Neal tugged the package open and nibbled on the corner of the saltine cracker. The crunch of the cracker filled the silence between them. "Do I have to be honest with Akers now?"

Peter nodded. "The more honest you are, the quicker Akers can help you and the quicker you can get out of here."

"W-what if he doesn't let me out?" Neal hid his face in his hands, his body trembling. "I don't want to stay here for the rest of my life." The fear was evident in his voice. "Don't make me stay here, Peter, please," he begged, peeking at the agent through his fingers.

"Make an effort with Akers and I'll look for a new place." Peter stood and grasped the younger man's shoulder to reassure him. "I won't let you stay here. This won't be your new cage."

* * *

><p>I hope you enjoyed the chapter. Please leave a review and let me know what you thought!<p> 


	5. Miscontent

I'M ALIVE! I just finished my second to last semester of college and that is why it took me sooo long to finish this chapter. I'm working hard on finishing my other chapters for my other stories. I'm also working full time so expect erratic posting of chapters.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own White Collar or it's characters.

**Warnings:** Cussing, PTSD moment

* * *

><p>Peter shut the front door, calling out that he was home. The brunette stuck her head around the corner and smiled. "How was work?"<p>

"My client finally decided on what main courses she wanted for her wedding." She was standing in front of a pot of red sauce, stirring it. "She's one of my most picky brides yet. She's gone from Asian cuisine to Italian. She finally decided on steak and chicken with a small spinach salad." El turned around and smiled at Peter. "How was yours?"

"I got to see Neal today." He couldn't help but smile. "He doesn't like Akers but he promised he start making an effort with him."

El clasped her hands together in triumph. "Do you think they'll let him out any time soon?"

Peter shook his head. "He's too traumatized to be in general public." When El gave him a confused look, he elaborated. "I took him out to the garden today and as we were talking a woman and a patient walked out. Neal immediately closed in on himself and wanted to go inside." The agent let out a sigh. "He can't run every time a stranger comes within 20 feet of him. We live in New York. He'd never leave the house."

El nodded in agreement. "I've noticed something from these chats we've had." She pointed at Peter. "He has an attachment to you but I'm not quite sure why." She placed her finger on her chin. "I know you saved him from that warehouse but the way he completely trusts you, means that there's something a little deeper than your connection from saving him."

"I worked his case before he went missing," Peter supplied. "He wouldn't talk to anyone but me about his case."

"Why were you so special?" She winked at him before turning back to the pasta and sauce on the stove.

The agent crossed his arms. "He didn't trust any of the other agents to handle it with the discretion it warranted. He also thought that whoever stole his warehouse could find out he filed."

"Can you hand me two plates?" She held out her hand for them. "So he must subconsciously remember you." Once El had the plates, she filled them with food. "I think you should remind him about you working his case, it could easily reinforce his trust in you." She handed him a plate.

"Good idea, El." Peter snagged a beer from the refrigerator and popped it open. "He seems to like me a lot more than anyone else. He's uncooperative with Akers and fights the orderlies. He perceives everyone as a threat."

"But not you?" She raised her eyebrow. "You carry a gun," she chuckled. "I'm surprised at that." El made her way into the dining room. "It doesn't matter why he trusts you. All that matters is that he does."

Peter nodded and followed her. He sat down and began to eat his food. "You're right. Now I just have to build his trust." The agent noticed his jacket on the couch and remembered the flower. "El, do we have something I can plant this in?" he asked as he took the bloom from the pocket.

El nodded and went to the kitchen. "Did Neal give you that?" She knew the answer. There was no way that Peter would stop to pick a bloom like that just on a whim. She ducked down and pulled several Tupperware containers out of a cabinet before she finally found a small, sturdy, blue, ceramic pot. "This should work for it."

He took the pot from her and went to the garage where they kept some dirt for the flowerbeds. He filled the bowl and placed the flower under the dirt. "I have no idea if this will work."

El watched him pour some water on it from the sink. "If you don't know, then why are you doing it?"

"So that when Neal gets out, he'll have something nice to put in his new place." Peter placed the plant in the windowsill above the sink.

El smiled at the thoughtfulness and kissed Peter on the cheek before they returned to their dinner.

xxWCxx

Kate sat on the plush, leather couch as she waited for Sara. She knew that the police raid on the warehouse was a huge setback and a loss in profit. There was no way that Sara and her boss were going to be happy.

The door to the room opened and Sara entered, followed by their boss. "Do you know where Neal would go, Kate?" Sara asked for the sixth time.

"No, before all of this, he only had me. His mom lives in Florida and he has no other family." She was quiet for a moment. "Do you think he's at the hospital? He was quite malnourished."

"That is a possibility," Sara said, looking at the man next to her. "They are probably keeping him there for psychiatric care, Keller." She ducked her head at the look of anger on his face.

"I want him back! Neal Caffrey is mine and has been for three fucking years. Who do the FBI think they are? They can't just walk in and take what's mine! I won't let them." Keller shot a look at Kate. "Get into whatever hospital he's in and get him out!"

Kate cocked her head to the side. "And how do you suppose I do that? I can't just walk in and demand that Neal be let go. He's terrified of me, he won't walk out of there voluntarily."

Keller stalked over to her and grabbed a fistful of her hair. "Don't give me excuses! Fucking figure it out. While he's still breathing, he's mine." He dropped her and turned to Sara. "We're in this situation because you. If you hadn't taken the money out of the bank, I'd have Caffrey at my beck and call." He stomped out of the room, slamming the door.

"We better figure out where he is or Keller's going to tear this city apart." Kate scrubbed her face before looking at Sara. "Had I known that it would've gone this far, I would've kept Neal and dealt with his flirting."

Sara sat next to Kate. "Now he's Keller's sex toy and now you're under Keller's rule."

"He's a damn shell of himself. H-he's not confident or witty anymore." Her eyes filled with tears as she realized that Neal was the way he was because of her. All consuming guilt filled her heart. "He's not himself and it's my fault. I can't believe I sat by and let this happen."

The redhead wiped her tears. "You tried to leave once, remember? Keller found you two days later and beat Neal in front of you. He stepped on Neal's chest as he tried to tell Keller that it wasn't his idea to leave. Remember how he pleaded for Keller to stop?" Sara pointed at Kate. "We need to find a way to get out of here, away from Keller."

xxWCxx

Neal waited for the nurse to leave her station. All he wanted was what was on the top of the counter. She grabbed the tray of pills and began to make rounds. He slid out of his room and made his way to the recreation room. As he passed the nurses' station, he swiped the cylindrical object and hid it under his sleeve.

He walked back to his room and climbed into bed. Neal dragged his dinner table to him and slipped the pen out of his sleeve so he could draw on the back of the paper that held his schedule.

Several minutes later there was a knock on his door. His head snapped up and he quickly hid the pen in his sleeve. It was the black woman from the patio.

"I don't think we've met. I'm June," she said as she stood in the doorway. "Would you like some coffee?" June smiled kindly at him and waited patiently for his response.

"Coffee?" he repeated dumbly. That sounded so good, warm, comforting. He nodded. This was the first person who asked him for something without demanding something in return. June didn't expect anything else from him, right?

The woman disappeared for a couple seconds and came back with a cup of steaming coffee. "Do you want any cream or sugar?"

"No, thank you." He took the cup from her and held it close to his body. The warmth was seeping into his bones. A thought occurred to him right before he took a sip. "Are there drugs in here?"

Genuine shock crossed her features. "Of course not. I wouldn't do that to you. Why do you think I would do that?" A hurt expression took over now.

"I-I don't take my medication and Dr. A-Akers is getting f-frustrated and I wouldn't put it by him to try and trick me," he said in a rush. He took a large draw of his coffee, afraid June would take it from him for such words. Drugs be damned.

"I'm with you on that one, honey. Akers can be real sly. But this coffee stand is all mine." She smiled at him again.

"Is this an Italian roast?" At her affirmation, a small smile crossed his face. "It's delicious, Miss June."

"I'm glad you like it." Now that she was standing next to Neal, she could see his drawing. "Is this of your friend that was out on the patio with you?" she inquired as she pointed at the drawing.

"Y-yeah. P-please don't tell Dr. Akers that I drew it! He won't let Peter see me anymore." He drug the pen out and proffered it to June.

"I see. You're not allowed to have any writing utensils at all." She raised her eyebrow. "So where did you get this one?" There was no anger in voice but genuine curiosity.

"T-the nurses' station." June still hadn't taken the pen from him. "I haven't been able to draw in three years and I saw an opportunity and I took it." His head was hung low and the words were all but mumbled. "I'm sorry."

"It's all right, dear. Go on and keep it." She curled his fingers around it. "It'll be our little secret from Akers." She smiled happily before turning away. "See you tomorrow, honey."

"Wait, Miss June!" When she turned, he said, "My name is Neal. And it was nice to meet you."

"Same to you, Neal. Tell Akers to be more gentle." With that she disappeared through his door and the sound of her cart rolling away was all he heard.

xxWCxx

Neal was adding finishing touches to his sketch of Peter when Akers knocked on his door frame. "Good afternoon, Neal," he said easily as he began to walk to the bed.

The younger male's heart began beating rapidly, pen clattering to the table. "Dr. Akers? Why are you here? I'm not supposed to see you until four o'clock."

"I heard June came to see you today. Did she give you the pen?" The doctor held his hand out for the utensil. "Give it to me, Neal. You know that you can't have that."

Cautiously, Neal obeyed. "When can I have my own pen?" He cast a look at his drawing, not pleased with the shaky lines. "I want to draw some more."

"I'm not sure. You are negating your progress with your unwillingness to eat with the other patients and your little stunts." Akers twirled the pen between his fingers. "You need to start integrating with the other patients. You will not get better by yourself."

"I don't want to tell people what I've been through. It's none of their business and I don't want their pity." The younger man took his drawing, slid out of bed and walked to the whiteboard in the recreation room and taped up his drawing with everyone else's. Without looking at anyone he began his way back to his room, Akers following him like a puppy.

"Oh, Neal, that's a beautiful drawing!" June exclaimed, clapping her hands together. "It looks exactly like Peter."

Startled by her sudden outburst, Neal froze but then turned to see her encouraging smile. "Thank you, Miss June."

"I know when I see an artist." She also knew to maintain her space around the man and she didn't dare touch him. She looked directly at the psychiatrist, ready to wage a war. "Dr. Akers, I think that you could allow Neal to draw in his free time. I'll gladly watch over him."

"He hasn't earned that right, Mrs. Ellington. Can I talk to you in private?" Akers motioned for June to follow him but she did not move.

"Whatever you have to say to me can be said in front of Neal." She looked Neal directly in the eyes, letting him know that what she said next was for him. "He has every right to know why he can't have a pen or pencil when he's supervised."

"He hasn't followed protocol. I haven't been able to discern if he's a threat to others because he won't integrate with the other patients." Akers made a frustrated sound and Neal moved out of his line of fire.

"You can't just toss him in there and expect him to be fine with that," June stated. "Neal, why don't you want to be with the other patients?"

"They g-get too close to me." Neal wrapped his arms around himself, already feeling like June and Akers were too close.

June took a step back. "Would you sit in the rec. room with me? We can do a puzzle," She offered. At Neal's hesitant nod, she said to Akers, "That's how you help your patient, Doctor. You have to ask him why he doesn't like something and work out a plan with Neal."

Akers glared at the woman before telling Neal that it was time for his group. "You don't want to be late."

The door to the ward opened and Peter stepped through. As the agent made his way to the group, Neal ran to him and threw his arms around Peter's waist. "Is everything alright?" Peter threaded his fingers into the man's hair, like he did to El when she was upset.

"I don't want to go to group." It was a lame excuse but Neal didn't want to talk about what happened to him. No one else in group had gone through the same thing or anything close to it. He was just avoiding the inevitable.

A soft exhale brushed Neal's curls. "I know you don't like it but it is part of your schedule, you need to go. I'll still be here when you get back." He stepped back to let Neal walk away but he simply clung to him.

A small hand touched Neal's shoulder and he ducked away from June. "I'll stay here with Peter and I won't let him leave," she supplied, not perturbed by Neal's response. She had a hunch on what had happened to Neal.

Neal turned his head towards her, fingers tightening in Peter's jacket. "You promise?" It seemed like every time he left the man alone, he had to leave. She nodded, a smile pointed at Peter.

Reluctantly, Neal's fingers released Peter's jacket. The feeling of safety and warmth waned as he stepped away slightly to walk down the hallway. Akers went to reach for him but he jerked back into Peter. "Don't…don't touch me." If there was one thing that Neal hated the most it was being manhandled.

Neal's breathing hitched as a flash of a client grabbing him and pinning him to the bed crossed his vision. He wrapped his arms about himself, bottom lip quivering. He was scared and needed something comforting. He knew that the client wasn't there, wasn't touching him but it seemed so real, so vivid.

"Hey!" Peter exclaimed as he stepped in between Akers and Neal. "Why'd you do that? You have no idea what sets him off. You didn't even know that he has a food aversion." The agent turned away from him and focused on the younger man.

No one tried to touch him, to comfort him. No one knew what to do. Akers stared at him, unsure of how to proceed. June watched, knowing that Neal would pull out of it soon. Peter was left grasping at straws, not knowing what Neal needed from him. He flexed his fingers that were extended towards Neal, wanting to help but unsure.

The young man began running his fingers frantically through his hair. It was supposed to be soothing, calming but his clumsy fingers got tangled in the strands, his unfiled nails scraped across his scalp. It hurt and made him whimper.

"Neal," it was the soft baritone of Peter's voice that caught his attention first, then it was the large hands encompassing his, keeping him from hurting himself. The grip was firm but if Neal pulled away, Peter would let go.

"Neal," he called again, this time a little firmer. "Are you okay?" It was obvious he wasn't but Peter needed to hear it from Neal.

He pulled his hand away to wipe at the tears on his face. "I…don't…" He closed his eyes harshly as he tried to control his breathing so he could communicate properly. "He's not real. I-I know that b-but…"

"It's okay, Neal," June said. "It's normal." She had no idea what he had been through but the last thing he needed was to be told he was odd. All he wanted was to fit in, to be normal.

"I don't want it to happen again. I don't like it." He scrubbed at his face with his gray shirt, his face pinking at the roughness. The small flashback was over, he had calmed down but he still shook. "Do I have to go to group now?"

All three nodded. Akers motioned for him to follow him and he did but several steps behind. He wrung his hands together, still not quite over his panic attack. Peter didn't expect him to be.

June placed a warm hand on his forearm. "I know that Dr. Akers isn't the most experienced psychiatrist but he'll help Neal to the best of his ability."

Peter shook his head. "I don't want him to help Neal anymore. He makes Neal uncomfortable." He pinched the bridge of his nose. "He needs someone that knows how to handle him. Neal obviously doesn't do well when he can't do what he wants."

The woman nodded. "Something as simple as drawing could tell us a lot about Neal. He drew you." She went and removed it from the wall and handed it to Peter. "That picture tells me that he trusts you."

She touched Peter's arm, her face suddenly serious. "Will you tell me what happened to Neal? I might be able to help him."

"How can you help him?" he asked genuinely. "Aren't you a nurses' aide?" Peter was confused.

"I'm a psychologist. My name is June Ellington." She held out her hand and waited for Peter to shake it.

The agent shook it, giving her his name. "Do you work here, at the hospital? I don't want Neal –"

"No, I don't. I run an institution out of my home. As of right now, I only have two guests." She waited a moment, then said, "I could look over him personally, you could visit whenever you want. It would be the best for him."

"Don't you want to know what happened to him before you take him on as a patient?" At her eager nod, he told her what he knew. "I found him in a warehouse, where I busted a prostitution ring. He told me he had been there for three years and they called him Nick. He called himself Nick. He was held captive by Alex, Sara, and Kate. He used to date Kate."

"Does he show any signs of Stockholm Syndrome? Is he upset that he was taken from Kate?" She cast a look at Neal. His knees were tucked into his chest, his arms were wrapped around them. He was completely disengaged and uninterested in the group. Akers was in a chair behind him, watching him carefully.

"The doctor said no. He doesn't like Sara or Kate. He doesn't talk a lot about Alex." Peter followed her gaze. "I think he's afraid of them."

"They most likely beat him into submission." She pointed at Neal. "He could easily have more behavioral problems. We need to keep a very close eye on him."

The agent nodded. He turned when the door opened and a striking woman walked through. Peter recognized her from a picture he had seen a couple days ago. It was from Neal's file. "Mrs. Caffrey?"

She looked at him, her brown hair falling into her blue eyes. "It's not Caffrey anymore. I'm Theresa George." She paused, looking around and became rigid when she looked through the group window. "Is that Neal in there?"

Peter nodded. "Do you want to speak to him? He could use all the support he can right now. He has a lot of trust issues and having you here might help him realize he's safe."

Theresa shook her head, stammering, "I can't handle seeing him that way." She waved Peter off as she began to walk out.

"Ms. George, your son, Neal, has no one here." The woman stopped and turned at June's voice. "He has been badly traumatized and has no one he can fully trust." June pointed to Neal. "If you can't stand to look at him or don't want to try to help him then you need to leave. He can't handle being abandoned again."

Wide-eyed and eyes full of tears Ms. George covered her face. "I wasn't a good mother when he was younger. I started drinking when his father died. And I don't even know why I came here. I can't help him and he won't let me. He's s-so stubborn," she said in a rush. "He's always been stubborn, always had to do it his way."

The agent laid his hand on her arm to comfort. "Could you try? It might help –" Peter was cut off by June's hand.

"Unless you're in for the long haul, you need to leave. Neal is going to be out of group in a couple minutes." June crossed her arms, taking a stand.

She looked down at her hands for a brief second before she said, "I may not be able to help him by supporting him in a physical sense but I want to pay for all the care he receives. I-I can do that for him." Her eyes, full of pain and self-loathing, connected to June's.

"I'll help you set that up." The elderly woman, softly guided Ms. George out of the ward and to the registration desk at the other end of the hospital.

It bewildered Peter to see a mother abandon her hurting son to suffer by himself. How could she do that to Neal? Peter barely knew the young man and couldn't leave his side. His mother had given birth to him, held him when he cried; and she could just walk away. She wasn't strong enough to help Neal, she wasn't strong enough to help herself. The smell of booze covered her and Peter had done his best to ignore it. If she couldn't seek and receive help then she couldn't possibly help Neal.

Peter was pulled out of his musings by Neal touching his sleeve. "How was group?"

Neal shrugged his shoulders. "Dr. Logan tried to get me to talk about it again. And I didn't want to but Dr. Akers told me I had to." He looked down at his socked feet.

"What happened?" There hadn't been any orderlies called to the conference room so nothing physical occurred.

"I told them I wasn't ready. T-they said I had to talk about it sometime." Neal's eyes filled with tears. "I started to cry. I told them that I felt like I was going to throw up and they let me leave."

He placed his hand on the man's shoulder. "It's alright. You'll talk about it when you feel comfortable and ready."

Being aware of his surroundings, Neal saw Akers walking towards them. "Can we go outside?" He started towards the door but stopped when Peter shook his head.

"Let's wait until June gets back. She would like to talk to you." Peter saw Akers stop next to him. He waited for the man to say something to one of them.

"Do you feel better, Neal?" He asked first. "You said you felt like throwing up. Did you?"

He shook his head while looking at his feet. "I didn't have to after I left. My stomach must be upset from the lack of food and anxiety." He placed his hand on his stomach. "Where's Miss June?"

"She's helping a visitor with some paperwork. She'll be back soon." Peter reached out, knowing he probably shouldn't, and brushed Neal's hair back into place.

He made a soft noise, almost like a purr, and stood stiff. "Peter…can we wait outside? I like the feeling of the sunshine." Neal stepped closer to the agent.

"Dr. Akers, is it alright if we do that?" Peter placed his hand on the small of Neal's back. "You can let Mrs. Ellington know where we are."

Akers nodded before leading them to the door and letting them out. "I'll let Mrs. Ellington know that you are out here." He turned from them and went back inside.

Neal played quietly with his sleeve while he looked at the flowers. "Miss June was with my mother." The man had seen his mother and Miss June through the window. "Why did Miss June take her away?"

"How-how did you…?" Peter closed his mouth and figured out what he was going to tell him. Neal's mother wasn't going to see him or support him so there was no reason to tell Neal that she was here. June didn't want Neal to know she was here. But Peter wasn't going to lie to him, it wasn't right. "June took your mother to pay for your stay."

"She didn't want to see me." Neal's head dropped, lips pressed tightly together. "She can't look at me. I-I'm a horrible son." Tears leaked from his eyes.

"No you're not." Now Peter realized why June didn't want her to see Neal. The fact that his mother didn't see him or want to see him, made Neal feel like he failed her. "If you were a horrible son, she wouldn't be paying for your stay."

Neal shook his head. "When my father died, I closed myself off from her. She was so worried about my social skills that she got me a puppy. I made lots of friends because of him. Then I was out of the house most of the time with my friends. When I was home I read or painted. I didn't show her how much I loved her."

"Neal, she knows you love her. And she loves you, otherwise she wouldn't have asked to pay for your hospitalization." Peter reached over, his thumb wiping away his tears. "She didn't abandon you. She's supporting you and she wants you to get better."

The younger man nodded. If what Peter said was true, then maybe his mother really did still love him and want him.

June suddenly joined them. "Hello, boys." She turned to Neal and noticed his red rimmed eyes. She looked at Peter and realized what had transpired. "Neal, Peter and I have discussed you leaving the hospital."

The younger man's eyes flicked between them. "I can go home?" He wanted to laugh. There was no way that Dr. Akers would let him leave. He needed years of therapy for what had happened to him.

"No, we're going to transfer you to another institution…my institution," June answered. "Peter can visit and stay as long as you want. You would receive more individualized care with me. I also have a guest who was found where you were held."

"Would you like to transfer there?" Peter asked after a long silence from Neal. The younger man was looking at the ground, his hands reflexively clenched his shirt sleeves of the opposite arm. "She doesn't have many pat–guests."

"When? When can I leave?" he finally asked, his eyes catching Peter's. His arms fell to his sides. "I don't want to stay here. I…I feel like I'm going crazy here. I just want to get better, I don't want to play these stupid minds games with Dr. Akers. Rewards for good behavior," a low scoff broke his eye contact with the agent. "I never left the damn warehouse by that principle alone." A hollow cackle left his mouth. "Not that I was ever 'good' enough to get said rewards from Miss Sara. And I'm obviously going to escape by Dr. Akers standards."

The small rambling was the most that either one of them had heard Neal speak in one sitting. "I'll start the transfer paperwork now. You should be out by the end of the week." June smiled at Neal, happy that he had chosen to let her help. "I'll see you later, Neal." She walked back inside.

The younger man waved. "Is Dr. Akers going to be mad that I'm leaving?" Neal hugged himself again. "I don't want him to be mad at me."

"He's not going to be happy about losing you as a patient but he'll get over it." Peter patted his shoulder lightly, noticing the slight flinch. "Let's going in and let him know that you're leaving."

Neal nodded and followed Peter into the building. As he walked through the hallways, he wondered wht it would be like to go outside whenever he wanted.

* * *

><p>Please read and review. I read every review I get and I thank you all that have left me reviews.<p> 


	6. Misidentified

So I finally decided to finish this chapter. I'm sorry it took me soooo long.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own White Collar or it's characters. They belong to USA Network. I do own the OMCs, Luka and Jace, in this chapter.

**Warnings: **Panic attack

* * *

><p>They had tried to take Neal outside but a car backfired and several people were coming through the door as Peter and Neal exited.<p>

Now the young man was hyperventilating and clinging to Peter's arm, tears smearing on the agent's sleeve. He wanted to go outside but the fear of seeing Miss Kate or Miss Sara made him extremely anxious.

"Relax, Neal." Peter escorted the man to an empty seat and knelt in front of him. It wasn't easy to calm Neal or comfort him…at least for Peter. "Take a deep breath and look at me."

Neal wiped harshly across his eyes. "I want to leave, I really do," he supplied when he glanced at the agent's face. "They're out there. They're waiting for me, to take me back."

Cautiously Peter brushed his hand through the younger man's hair and felt some relief when Neal pushed into Peter's hand. "They can't get to you. I won't let them." Hoping that was enough to reassure him, Peter stood and went to talk to June, who was standing close by.

After talking through several plans to get Neal outside without him getting upset, Peter and June decided that they would sedate Neal.

Neal hated the needle and leaned away from it as the burly, male orderly went to inject the sedative. "Peter," he called as his hand flailed over the side of the chair to find the agent.

He was there in a second, his hand slipping into Neal's. "This is going to help you. Let him do his job, Neal."

"Don't let them get me, Peter." He squeezed the agent's hand until the sedative took over and he relaxed against the chair.

Peter carried him bridal style to June's car, easily setting him in the seat and locking the seatbelt across him. "I'll be following in my car," he said to June, who was on the other side of the car.

"It's not far from here. We'll see you in a while." She pulled Neal's knee out of the way so that Peter could shut the door.

xxWCxx

Neal woke groggily, drool pooled on the arm beneath his head. He started when he saw the figure sitting across from him. "Miss June? W-where am I?"

She smiled sweetly at him. "You're in my institution. And this is your apartment. You'll be sharing it with one other guest." June stood up and gently sat on the edge of his bed. "I want you to explore and get comfortable in this room. There's a change of clothes in the bathroom if you want to shower. When you're done, you can come down to be introduced to everyone else."

Neal nodded and watched her walk out of the room. She shut the door when she exited the room. He leapt from the bed, almost tripped over the stair connecting the bedroom to the rest of the apartment; and the young man immediately pulled the door open in a panic. June hadn't locked him in. He kept the door open as he moved to the kitchen. Four burner stove, sink, and a one door refrigerator were in a line, a dining table with six chairs was behind him. There was a fireplace within the far wall.

He followed around the fridge and found a door. He slowly creaked the door open and poked his head out into a hallway. Neal slinked into the hallway and tiptoed down its length. At the end of it was a large walk-in closet. There was only a couple of dress shirts hanging to his right. On the left were several luxurious and expensive suits.

Neal made his way back to his apartment, unsure if was supposed to have looked in there. He saw French doors that lead out to a terrace, but when he tried to open them, they were locked.

As he made his way back to his bed, Neal walked by a sitting area with a floor to ceiling bookcase along the wall. He casually scanned the shelves and felt like he had stocked the case himself.

Feeling quite pleased with his new home, Neal went to the only door he hadn't opened. It was next to the fireplace. He opened it and discovered the bathroom. He took a quick shower and slipped into a pair of navy sweats and a loose fitting white, cotton shirt.

When he exited the bathroom, Neal caught a glimpse of a shadow through the glass walls surrounding the patio. Neal screamed as threw himself into the bathroom and slammed the door.

_He_ was here. _He _had found him. Neal fumbled with the lock for what seemed like an eternity until it finally snapped into its locked position. He braced himself against the door and waited for _him_ to break down the door.

Peter heard Neal's scream and immediately headed for the apartment even though June was in the middle of explaining how she planned on helping the young man.

When he shoved open the door, he found a blond haired man staring quizzically at the door next to the fireplace. Peter shot him a glare before moving to the door. He tried the handle but it was locked. "Neal, can you open the door?"

Neal balked when he heard footsteps coming towards him and scrambled into the claw foot tub when the doorknob jiggled. Then he heard the agent's voice. "Peter? Is he gone?"

Peter glanced at the man behind him. "No, he's standing next to me. Did he scare you?"

Neal nodded, forgetting that Peter couldn't see him. "Yes. Make him go away. He hurt me, Peter."

The agent wheeled around to the blond man. "What did you do to him?" Peter started towards him but June slipped between them.

"He didn't do anything, Peter. Luka wouldn't hurt anyone. He was in the same ring as Neal. He's just as scared as him." She placed her hand on the blond's arm.

"Neal, who do you think is out here?" Peter asked as he walked back to the bathroom, then pressed his ear against the door.

The young man scrubbed his face several times, scouring up the courage to say _his_ name. "Who's out there?" he asked instead.

"Me, June, and Luka." He knew Neal didn't know who the other man was but thought that maybe Neal had saw Luka and assumed he was someone else. "Who do you think is out here?"

"Luka?" He unlocked the door and peered up at Peter. When the agent moved out of his way, he saw the blond. "Oh. Sorry." He dropped his head.

"It's okay," Peter said as he tilted Neal's chin up. "Who did you think was out here? Who did you think Luka was?"

"N-no one. He just spooked me." Neal edged around Peter to get a better look at Luka. The blond was not the man Neal thought he was.

The blond was two inches taller than Peter. He was lean but athletic, muscles rippled along his arms even though he had been held captive like Neal. His heart shaped face framed with medium length sunshine colored hair that was windswept out of his gold flecked jade eyes. His pink tongue swiped along his lush lips, a nervous tick from being studied. His nose was narrow and straight, no bump or curve to say he ever fought in a fight. Thin, dark blond eyebrows were neat. Luka's cheekbones were high. Stubble lined his chin and above his lip. His fingers were long, nails trimmed perfectly and lacquered. His chest was swathed in a black, tight fitting tank top and his lean legs were covered in jeans. He had dingy black and white Converse on his feet.

Neal managed a wave after his inspection. "You were held captive too?" He figured that Luka would know who he thought the blond had been. "How long did they keep you?"

Luka looked down at the floor, his right hand sliding into his pocket. "I've been told six months. Felt like a whole hell of a lot longer. You?" The blond looked at Neal, unsure of his right to ask.

Neal looked away from him and to Peter before finally answering. "T-three years. They had me for three years."

Luka covered his mouth in astonishment. Even though he did not know Neal very well, the blond knew he did not want pity. "I am sorry."

Neal looked away. He couldn't detect a hint of pity from Luka and appreciated that fact. "We survived and that's all that matters."

"Very true." Luka shifted slightly and changed the subject, realizing that Neal was uncomfortable. "You were transferred from the hospital?"

He nodded. "Were you?" Neal was caught off guard by the question. Surely the blond had to have been taken there after being found.

"Yes. I was only there for a couple hours." Luka caught sight of June nudging the agent out of the room. "When the doctor told me that I needed to get psychiatric care, I had them call June. I was already seeing June before I was taken." Luka looked out to the patio, unwilling to go into detail.

The brunette respected his need for privacy. "Do you know who I thought you were?" he asked in a whisper.

The slight nod of Luka's head told him all he needed to know. "If I saw him, had to please him, then I knew you would have had to." Luka looked at him. "I understand why you reacted when you saw me. I have done the same myself with Jace."

Neal cocked his head to the side at the name. June never mentioned another man. Only Luka. "Was he…there also?"

"No," the blond said, surprised by the question. "He's the other psychiatrist here. He'll run our group." At the other man's nod, Luka continued. "I think June wanted you to meet the rest of the group. Do you want to go now?"

"There's no reason to delay the inevitable." The brave front was to protect himself from being bullied by the other guests. He was so anxious about the meeting he felt like throwing up.

"Jace is real nice, patient. Don't let his size intimidate you. He's a big teddy bear," Luka said to fill the silence as they made their way downstairs.

Neal heard three distinct voices, Peter and June's easily recognized. The other was male. He watched the blond walk into the living room that was to the left of the stairs. Neal hovered by the doorway, his body unwilling to pass the threshold.

June and Peter were sitting on a spotless white loveseat with the an unknown man, plus Luka, on a matching couch. There was only an armchair available. Neal would have to walk by the couches to get there. His stomach churned.

The closest man to the armchair was large, muscular. Neal could see the outlines of his pectoral muscles through his powder blue polo shirt. His thick biceps were threatening to split his sleeves. His square jaw was free of hair but there was a light shadow. His hair was shaved close to his head. His eyes were dark brown like chocolate pudding. His nose was broad. He guessed that he was as tall as Peter. Neal assumed that he was Jace.

Peter's fingers touched his hand lightly, calling his attention back to the agent. He wasn't aware that he had been staring. He wasn't even sure how long he had been standing there. Peter most likely had been calling his name.

"Are you alright?" The concern grew deeper on the agent's face when Neal took several seconds to compose himself.

"Yes. It's just nerves." He looked back into the room to find that no one but June was looking at them.

The agent took Neal's hand. "Nothing bad is going to happen. It's just an introduction." When the younger man still didn't move from his safe spot, he offered to walk in together.

Neal's fingers tightened in Peter's grip. He could do this. Peter thought it was safe. Plus the agent would be there with him.

Peter did not tug Neal into the room but let him choose the pace. The agent escorted him to the empty armchair and released his hand.

The young brunette pulled his legs to his chest, protecting himself. He watched the three men to the left of him.

"There is no reason to be afraid of anyone in this room, Neal," June said, directing the man's attention to her. "Everyone here is getting help or wants to help you."

Neal still kept his knees to his chest and wrapped his arms around his legs. "I understand."

June nodded in understanding. "This is Jace. He has worked with me for the past five years. He's going to be running your group."

Jace made no move to shake Neal's hand, seeing as the young man wasn't up to being touched. Seeing the display between the agent and Neal and how Neal didn't want to come into the room, Jace assumed that he was going to be skittish with anyone but Peter. He gave a short wave.

Jace turned his attention toward Peter. "I don't quite understand why we have a FBI agent present."

"He found Neal and I wanted to see if I could pick his brain about his location." She smiled at Peter. "And I thought that the transition would be smoother with him here."

"I see," Jace said. He still was not happy that Peter was there. He had scared off one of his patients and he didn't appreciate that.

"I didn't realize that I was an inconvenience." Peter turned from Jace's glare to June. "Ms. Ellington, I can come back later, at your earliest convenience, to answer all your questions."

"_Right now_," she stressed to Jace, "is perfect. Why don't we go to my office so Neal can get settled in his room and get to know Luka." She stood and lead the way to her office, Peter and Jace following her.

Neal looked at Luka. "Why is he so unhappy?" he asked about Jace. "I don't think he likes me."

"It's not that he doesn't like you. He's mad that there's a an FBI agent here. The other patient here has extreme paranoia and he doesn't trust the government."

"I'm sorry. I-I didn't know." Neal hung his head and hugged his knees closer. "Are you upset that Peter's here?"

Shaking his head, Luka stood. "He doesn't bother me. I have no reason to not like him." He motioned for the male to follow him. "Let's go to our room."

Neal shakily stood and followed Luka. "H-How long do you think Peter will be gone?"

"I'm not sure. I don't think it should be very long." Luka started up the stairs and opened door to their apartment.

xxWCxx

After telling June about the conditions Neal was found in and his initial reaction to the hospital, he said good bye to Neal, and went home.

The young man immediately climbed into his bed after Peter had left him. He didn't want to talk about anything with anyone. The day had been trying and his body was sinking delightfully into the mattress.

* * *

><p>Please R&amp;R!<p> 


End file.
